


Uptown Boy

by red_special_specialist



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, F/F, F/M, Fiona is a good sister, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Light Angst, Lip is an asshole but only for a little bit, M/M, Mostly used by Mickey, Multi, Northside Gallagher family, Northside Ian Gallagher, Ok maybe more angst then i initially planned, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Trauma, Violence, mentions of abuse, mickey is a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 171,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_special_specialist/pseuds/red_special_specialist
Summary: Ian Gallagher didn't expect to fall in love with anyone when he and his brother walked through the doors of that bar. Mickey Milkovich didn't expect to get mixed up with anyone from the Northside, especially not a certain redhead, or his fucked up wealthy family. Life is funny that way.
Relationships: Debbie Gallagher/Sandy Milkovich, Fiona Gallagher/Jimmy Lishman, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher/Tami Tamietti
Comments: 292
Kudos: 598





	1. The Shittiest Bar In Chicago

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic for this fandom. Thanks for reading!

It had been Lip’s idea to go to the Southside.

It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing. All Lip had to do was pop his head into Ian’s room, and say they were going out, and Ian started getting ready.

Ian had no idea where his brother was taking him when they stepped on the L, but anywhere was better than being cooped up inside the house. He had been going through a bit of a slump, and Lip promised to get him out of it. After his breakup a few months back, Ian rarely left the house, unless it was to go to the gym or to class. So, between going to his EMT training classes, and holding himself up in his room studying, Ian was getting stir crazy.

When Lip told him they were going to ‘the shittiest bar in Chicago’, Ian had to laugh. “Your idea of cheering me up is to take me to a shitty bar?”

“I found it on this website. Thought it would be fun to check out.”

Ian shook his head in amusement, “You don’t even drink anymore.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Ian sighed, and Lip grinned, “C’mon it’ll be fun. Lukewarm beer, floors that make our shoes stick to it, drunk assholes singing terrible Karaoke.”

“Sound like a riot,” Ian rolled his eyes, “Where’s it at anyway?”

“Southside.”

Ian didn’t think it was a safe idea at first, but Lip was adamant. He said that hanging around with drunks, whose lives were shittier than your own was therapeutic.

“Wouldn’t we stick out?” Ian asked as they arrived at their stop.

“What do you mean?”

Ian gave his brother a look. Lip knew exactly what he meant. They were both wearing nice clothes. Ian was wearing a blue button down he’d gotten from H&M, and Lip was wearing his MIT sweatshirt. They both looked like a couple of clean-cut kids. Anyone would be able to tell that they were Northside.

“Good thing we didn’t take your car. Then we’d really look like a couple of rich kids.”

Ian and Lip got off the L, and Lip started looking for directions on his phone, “Yeah, no shit. You think I’d bring my fucking car down here?”

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Look, just relax and play it cool. You got your knife?”

Ian nodded. The knife that Lip had been referring to was the knife he’d gotten from Monica. It was the last present Ian received from his mother before she died.

“Ok, good,” Lip said, and they walked on. “Besides, once you become and EMT, you’ll be stationed around here anyway. It’s good to know your way around.”

Ian only shrugged, because Lip had a point. Ian had wanted to be an EMT for a while, and now it seemed that it would become a reality. He wanted to be closer to the Southside, since he thought he’d be able to help more people. However, this was different. Ian didn’t think that walking into a bar dressed the way they were was the best way to make a first impression.

“Looks like we’re here,” Lip said as he stopped and looked up from his phone.

Ian stopped right next to him. He stared up at the big sign that hung over the red building, “The Alibi Room,” he read slowly before raising an eyebrow towards his brother.

Lip took hit from his vape, “Yep.”

“This is the shittiest bar in Chicago?”

“That’s what the article said.”

They stood there for a moment before Ian cleared his throat, “So, we gonna go in?”

“I thought you’d lead the way.”

“Last I checked this was _your_ idea.”

“But the whole reason we’re down here is for you.”

“Yeah, well you’re older,” Ian pointed out, not really having any other defense.

Lip rolled his eyes but stayed in place. It was clear that both boys were apprehensive to go in. A few more moments passed before Lip finally let out a begrudged groan, “Jesus Christ, Ian!”

Ian smirked as he watched his brother pushed past him and swung the door open. He hurried to the entrance, staying close behind Lip. When the door shut behind them, Ian was overwhelmed a bit by the strange environment.

It was like any typical dive bar. A few of the patrons looked up to see who had come in, but then back down to their drinks. However, one man over at the bar, didn’t take his eyes off the pair. He was a bigger guy and wore a cap which he fixed slightly before tapping the bar, getting the attention of the bartender.

The bartender noticed and looked up. He stood there for a split moment, sizing up both Ian and Lip, who were at this point visibly tense. He quirked an eyebrow, “You two boys just gonna stand there, or are you going to order something?”

“Right,” Ian huffed out, not realizing that he’d been holding his breath. Both him and Lip made their way over to the bar. They sat down next to the man with the cap. They both sat there awkwardly looking at the other people who were also at the bar, “Hi,” he said, but only received unimpressed looks. He sighed tapping his finger on the smooth surface, and then looked over at Lip who had his head down in embarrassment. Ian decided to ignore that and settled his attention, finally, on the bartender, “Uh, we’re not really from here. If- If you couldn’t tell?”

The bartender let out a laugh, “Yeah, no shit.”

“We’re from the Northside,” Lip said.

“What are you doing down here then?”

Lip smirked arrogantly, which made Ian roll his eyes. “Heard this was the shittiest bar on the Southside of Chicago.”

The bartender shrugged, “You heard correctly. There’s a cover charge though, for new customers.”

“Really?” Lip wasn’t impressed.

“Yeah,” the bartender sighed, “company rules.”

“Uh huh.”

Ian knew the guy was trying to play them. Not to be rude, but the guy didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, but Ian decided to play his game anyway, “How much?”

“Twenty bucks. Each.”

“What the fuck, man, you want us to give you forty dollars to drink in this shithole?” Lip laughed, but there wasn’t any humor behind it.

The bartender shrugged.

“Dude, I don’t even drink.”

“There’s a spicket outside around back.”

That made the bigger guy, and the guy sitting next to him, howl with laughter.

Ian laughed as well, which earned him a glare from his older brother. He then pulled out two twenties from his wallet and handed it to the bartender, “A beer please, and a coke for my brother.”

The bartender nodded and Lip scoffed, “This place really is the shittiest bar in Chicago.”

“Y’know a lot of you rich kids have been coming around lately since that stupid website made our bar number one,” he set a beer in front of Ian and a coke in front of Lip, “Yep they usually like it when we berate them or yell at them. I don’t know, I guess it makes the poverty porn more interesting. If you two want I could beat the shit out of you, but that would cost another twenty,” he said in the most causal tone. It made Lip and Ian nervously straighten up in their seats.

“Kev, stop bothering them. They’re just kids,” A woman said as she stepped behind the counter.

“Aw c’mon, V. I was just messing around,” Kev whined, which really took away from his tough guy image.

V shook her head, as if she were saying ‘What am I going to do with you?’. She turned around to face Ian and Lip, “Don’t be afraid boys. Kev is like a big loveable Pitbull, all bark no bite,” she shrugged.

“V!” Kev said in exasperation while V just winked.

Ian smiled, and relaxed a bit, “Uh, I like your dress,” Ian called out to V.

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a big smile, before she went into the back room.

Ian looked back at Kev who wasn’t smiling, “Uh,” Ian said uneasily.

“You hitting on my wife?”

Ian’s eyes widened at the word ‘wife’, “N-no not at all.”

Kev didn’t look convinced.

“Really, I’m not. That- she- I- she’s not even really my type,” he rambled on.

“Oh, so you’re saying she’s ugly?”

“No! She’s very pretty. I mean she’s pretty, but I’m not y’know! I like dick,” he said finally.

“Oh,” Kev said seeming a little relieved. He rested his elbows on the bar, “Then do you think I’m cute?” he teased.

Ian made a noise as a blush crept up his neck.

“I’m just fucking with you, kid,” Kev said, pushing himself off the counter. He made another beer and handed it to Ian, “This’ll calm your nerves, sweetheart.”

Ian looked over at Lip who was laughing. Ian glared at him before he pinched his side.

“Ow,” Lip said, still laughing.

Kev stepped into the back room when suddenly the door bust open, causing Ian to turn in his seat. A few guys stumbled into the bar, looking tough as nails. Ian kept his eyes trained on them as they walked past. Well, he kept an eye on one. He was a young guy, short with a good build, and he was wearing a stained white tank top and ripped jeans, so his muscles were on full display. The thing that made Ian a little weak, was when the boy turned around. His black hair was slicked back, and his eyebrows were well defined. His blue eyes shined brighter when compared to his porcelain white skin. Speaking of his skin, his hands were covered in black stuff, some of it were on his arms and face too.

“Hey, Kev, get your sorry ass out here,” the boy yelled, knocking hard on the bar, “Hurry the fuck up, man.”

Kev came out of the back room, “Hold your fucking horses, Mickey, I’m coming.”

“I don’t got all night. I gotta get home and tuck Yev in.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Y’know, I work hard all goddamn day, and I kinda expect that when I come to a bar, the bartender would actually be here to serve me a drink, and not fingering his wife in the back room or some shit like that.”

“Fuck off,” Kev muttered, filling up the glass.

“Work hard all day,” the guy in the hat grumbled, “You work at a bike shop. Try doing construction, and then come talk to me about hard work.”

Mickey raised his brow, “Fuck you, Tommy. How about I cut your fat fucking fingers off and shove them up your ass?”

“Jesus,” Lip whispered to Ian, but Ian was still focused on Mickey.

All Ian could think about was Mickey covered in motor oil, fixing bikes with his shirt off, and sweating in the Chicago heat. He looked at the boy’s hands again. They were so _dirty_. Ian bit his lip.

“Here,” Kev said and pushed the drink into Mickey’s hand.

“Thank you,” Mickey smiled, and Ian could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Mickey then backed away from the bar and went over to the pool table where the guys he came in with were starting a game.

Ian knew the guy was probably straight, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. He watched as Mickey circled around the table, keeping his eyes on Mickey’s ass. Ian didn’t take his eyes off him until he heard V come out of the back room.

“Uh, no. You better put that pool stick down,” she said sternly, causing Mickey to turn towards her.

“The fuck did I do?”

“Last time you came in here covered in that shit you got it everywhere. I don’t want you touching another damn thing without washing your hands first.”

Mickey raised his brow again, like he did when he told off Tommy, and Ian found it very attractive. However, Mickey didn’t say anything too offensive, “Who the fuck made you the boss?”

V put her hands on her hips, “When me and Kev bought the damn place, and you’re lucky we did, or your little dirty white ass would be shit out of luck. No other bar wants to deal with your loudmouth. You’d get kicked out anywhere else. Now, go wash your hands.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Yes, mom.”

“Oh, I’m not your mother. If I were, you’d be a lot cleaner.”

Mickey grinned, but then stopped when he noticed Ian staring at him, “The fuck you lookin’ at, Faggedy Anne?”

Ian blanched as everyone at the bar, and over by the pool table looked over at him.

“Well, fucking spit it out, freckles.”

“Hey easy,” Lip said, “We’re cool.”

“Are we? Cuz your fucking boyfriend sure doesn’t seem to think we are. Staring and shit, you gotta fucking hearing problem too?” Mickey questioned when Ian refused to say anything.

Ian wanted to say something, but he stayed mute. Luckily, Lip was there next to him to deescalate the situation.

“We don’t have a problem, man.”

“Was I talking to you, college boy?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. MIT, that’s a college, right?”

Lip looked down at his campus sweatshirt, “Yeah.”

“You actually go there, or did you steal that from someone?”

“I go there,” Lip said, and then his lip twitched up into a little smirk. It was a smirk Ian knew well, and it meant that Lip was about to say something rude or egotistical, “Yeah, they actually let you in when you study and shit, graduate high school, can read past an eighth grade level,” he shrugged.

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up at that. He laughed a little, and then scratched the corner of his eyebrow. He looked to Ian, “You should tell your boyfriend to keep his mouth shut.”

He looked back at Mickey and noticed a little hurt behind his callous eyes, probably from what Lip had said. Ian wanted to say sorry for Lip being an asshole, but instead he said, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Mickey threw his hand up.

“Yeah, I do,” he points his thumb at Lip, “He’s my brother by the way.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me. You both look like a couple of queers.”

“They’re from the Northside,” Kev said.

“Oh, well that explains it.”

Ian stared down at his hands. He really didn’t feel in the mood to be fag bashed today.

“You know,” Lip said, taking a hit off his vape, “when people act overtly homophobic, it means they’re actually gay too.”

Mickey laughed, “Well ain’t that the fucking truth.”

That made Ian look back up and was met with Mickey staring at him. It wasn’t like before when he was glaring at Ian like they were going to fight. It was softer, more lustful. Mickey gave him a lazy smirk, and it made Ian’s stomach do somersaults.

“Oh, Christ,” Lip muttered to Ian, rolling his eyes. He pulled some money out of his wallet and slapped it down on the table, “You ready to get out of here?”

“Leaving so soon?” Mickey called out.

Ian nodded to Lip, hopping off the barstool. He walked towards the exit, and when he reached the door he glanced back at Mickey, who was still staring at him. Ian gave him a small smile before leaving.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lip finally said, after a minute of silent walking.

“Yeah.”

“The fuck was that guy’s deal anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Ian said, trying not to think about how the dirty loud-mouthed thug made him feel. It had only been a minor interaction, but the other boy was making Ian feel like there were sparks crackling under his skin. The way he walked, and the way he talked made Ian’s heart thud in his chest, and his mind come to a halt. He could still see those sharp pair of blue eyes burning a hole into him even as he walked farther away from the Alibi. It wasn’t just the way his eyes looked, but the way his eyes looked when they looked at Ian. The way Mickey smirked at him when Lip insinuated he was gay. Ian hoped that Mickey was. He wanted to see him again.

“Oh no,” Lip said, pulling Ian away from his thoughts.

“What?”

“You have that look.”

“What look?”

“What look? You know what look, Ian. The ‘I’m thinking about fucking someone’ look.”

Ian shrugged, and he grinned.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you were actually attracted to that guy.”

“So, what if I was?”

“Ian, come the fuck on,” Lip groaned as they neared the L.

“What? I think the whole ‘bad boy’ look is sexy.”

“There’s a difference between ‘bad boy’ and ‘trailer trash’.”

Ian made a face.

“Besides, you just got out of a relationship, remember? With ‘he who shall not be named’?”

“That was three months ago!”

“It was a long-term relationship that ended terribly.”

Ian couldn’t argue that. He’d been dating the guy for four years, and then Ian finds out the bastard had been cheating on him. Not to mention he was always an asshole about Ian’s illness, using it as an excuse for cheating. And Lip was right, things did end terribly, but Ian was fine now. He was one hundred percent over him and was ready to go out and fuck someone new. Hopefully a cute black-haired guy who works on motorcycles for a living.

Lip let out an irritated sigh as they both boarded the L train, “Just promise me you won’t sleep with that guy, alright? You can do a lot fucking better.”

Ian gave his brother a reassuring smile, “Ok, man, I promise.”

Ian had been lying of course.

It had almost been a week after they’d gone by the Alibi. Ian didn’t want to go back too soon, or Lip would have gotten suspicious about his whereabouts, and if Lip found out, Ian would never hear the fucking end of it. He knew it was because Lip was only looking out for him, but sometimes Ian wished he would mind his own business. Just because he was bipolar didn’t mean every choice he made was the wrong choice.

So, Ian waited. He waited until Lip had gone back to Cambridge to finish packing for summer break. He knew Lip would be getting back late, and probably wouldn’t stop to check on Ian when he got back.

It was eleven o’clock and the house was silent. Ian quietly made his way down the stairs and out the front door. It wasn’t that he was afraid of his family, but they did ask him a lot of questions. Ian knew it was because they worried, but he hadn’t had a manic episode in three months. Sometimes he wished his family would trust him, but he knew that it was hard to see him when his meds go out of whack. He knew it reminded of them of their mother, who had the same disease.

He let out a sigh of relief when he finally made it out to his car. He didn’t know where all the nerves were coming from. However, it had just occurred to Ian that Mickey might not even be there, and if he was he might not want to see Ian. On top of that, he might have completely read the room wrong and Mickey wasn’t even gay at all. Maybe he was just trying to fuck with Ian’s head. Maybe, and Ian hated to admit it, Lip was right.

Ian let out a groan, resting his head in his hands. Was he really about to drive all the way down to the Southside to _possibly_ get laid? He sat and contemplated it for a moment, and then turned on the car. Fuck yeah, he was.

When Ian walked through the front door of the Alibi, he was immediately called over by Kev.

“Hey, Northside, glad to see you back! I’m happy to see we didn’t scare you off,” Kev smiled and handed him a beer.

Ian accepted, and then reached in his wallet to pull out a twenty.

Kev waived his hand, “No cover charge. You got balls coming back here. Also, V said I wasn’t allowed to hustle college kids for money anymore.”

Ian smiled and sat down at the bar, “Actually, my brother’s the college guy.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Cambridge. He’s got to pack all his stuff to move out of the dorms. Summer vacation and all that shit.”

“Right,” Kev nodded.

Ian took a sip of his beer, as he listened to a recap of the Sox game over the radio.

“Jesus, Kev, when are you going to get the tv fixed?” Tommy said, as Kev handed him a drink.

“Can’t get that one fixed. It’s been around since Stan owned the bar. I think it might be one of the first TVs ever built. They don’t make parts for it anymore.”

“Then just buy a new one,” The man next to Tommy said. He was the same guy who was sitting next to Tommy the night Ian and Lip first came to the bar.

“I can’t just buy a new one, Kermit. Money’s going to be tight over the summer. The girls are going to summer camp, and we’re not getting as many customers as we used to. Not since those rich fucks have been pushing poor people out of the neighborhood. Fucking Northside assholes, they’re all a bunch of vultures,” Kev said, but then spared a look to Ian, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Ian said, feeling a little uncomfortable.

As Kev went to cleaning the glasses, Ian looked around the room, hoping to spot Mickey, but didn’t see him anywhere. He felt a pang of sadness. He looked over by the pool table to see some of the guys Mickey walked in with when Ian was here a week ago. Maybe Ian should ask them. However, instead of going over to talk to them, Ian turned to Kev, “So,” he tried to say as casually as possible, “Is that guy Mickey around? Y’know the dark-haired guy from when my brother and I were here?”

Kev lifted his brow, as he cleaned shot glasses with a rag, “Mickey Milkovich? Why do you wanna see him?”

“No reason. Just thought he was interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah.”

Kev gave him a strange look, but he eventually said, “He’s in the bathroom.”

As if on cue the door to the men’s bathroom opened and Mickey sauntered out. This time he was wearing a black t shirt, which caused Ian to stare longer than he probably should have.

Ian didn’t know what to do next, or how he was going to flirt with Mickey, but he knew one thing, and that was alcohol couldn’t hurt, “Could I get a couple shots of tequila?”

“I’m done, V!” Mickey yelled out, “Can I touch the fucking pool table now that I’ve washed my hands?”

“Yes! And don’t make me tell your ass again to wash your hands before you go touching everything!” she called out from the back room.

Mickey rolled his eyes, and walked past Ian before stopping and turning around to look at him, “You again?”

Ian smiled brightly as Kev set two shots of tequila next to him, “Yeah.”

Mickey scratched the corner of his eyebrow, “So, is this what rich people like to do for fun? Go into shitty bars and stare at people?”

Ian huffed out a laugh, “Only the cute ones.”

“The fuck you say to me?”

Ian picked up one of the shots and held it out to Mickey, “Tequila?”

Mickey was apprehensive at first, but then took the shot glass out of the other boy’s hand.

Ian tried not to visibly shiver when their fingers touched. He then noticed the tattoo on Mickey’s hand, saying ‘Fuck’. Ian raised a brow and looked at Mickey’s other hand which said ‘u-up’. Ian smirked; he was definitely going to ask about that tattoo later. He picked up his own glass, and him and Mickey downed them at the same time.

Mickey handed his glass to Ian, staring at him with that playful smirk he gave Ian the last time they saw each other. He motioned his head over to the pool table, “You play?”

“Oh, I play,” Ian said, giving Mickey a sly smile.

“Pool, dumbass. Do you play pool?”

Ian nodded, “I play pool.”

“Think you can beat me?”

“Well, I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Bullshit! Get your ass over there and prove it!”

Ian followed Mickey over to the pool table where the other guys were playing.

“What?” said one of the guys.

“Get the fuck outta the way. Me and uh,” Mickey looked back at Ian.

“Ian.”

“Me and Ian want to play a game.”

“You can’t wait until we’re done?”

“Give us the pool table, Iggy, or I’ll bash your fucking head in,” Mickey rolled his eyes, sounding mildly aggravated.

“Whatever,” Iggy grumbled, shoving the pool stick into Mickey’s hands, “He’s not gonna blow you, Mick.”

“Fuck off!” Mickey snapped while Iggy and the other guys laughed and walked away.

Ian watched in amusement as Mickey set up the game, “Wanna make this interesting?”

Mickey looked up at Ian, “Ok?”

“How about every shot we sink, we get to ask the other one a question?”

Mickey gave him a weird look, “Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

“To get to know each other better.”

“I don’t wanna know you.”

“But I want to know you,” Ian said sweetly, and then gave Mickey his ‘pouty’ look. It was the look he always gave one of his siblings, or teachers, or his nannies, when he wanted something. It was basically irresistible and had worked since he was a little kid. It also seemed to be working now, because Mickey bit his lip and caved.

“Ok, fine, but let’s make this even more interesting. If I win you pay up fifty bucks.”

“Ok. Do I get anything if I win?”

Mickey scoffed as if it were impossible for that even to happen, “Sure. What do you want?”

Ian smiled as he got closer to Mickey, “If I win,” he leaned in close to whisper into Mickey’s ear, “ _I get to fuck the shit out of you_.”

Mickey stared back at him with wide eyes, and a blush started to form on his cheeks.

“Aww what did he say?” Kev grinned at them from the bar. He’d been watching the whole time.

“Fuck you is what he said,” Mickey glared at the bartender, “And stop watchin’ us. Don’t you have a bar to financially run into the ground?”

“You know, Mickey, I understand that a lot of your hurtful words are actually just cries for help from your pent-up aggression, and I just want to let you know that I’m here for you, buddy, and-”

“Go!” Mickey pointed towards the other end of the bar, “Now!”

Ian grinned at Mickey who handed him a pool stick, “You always that nice to your friends?”

“He’s not my friend. Also, yeah, I am. It’s part of my charm.”

“You want to break?”

“Nah, you go first. Wanna see how you rich pussies play pool.”

Ian shrugged, and then positioned himself. He focused on the cue ball, as he lined up for his shot.

“Christ! We’ll be here till’ Christmas. Just take the damn-”

Ian took the shot, immediately sinking two in the right corner pocket, and one in the middle left pocket. He stood up and smiled innocently at Mickey, because how was he supposed know that Ian played competitively all through high school.

Mickey stared down at the pool table, almost in awe. He bit his lip, “Guess I’ll be stripes.”

“And I guess I get to ask you how many questions? Three?” he said in faux disbelief, “I think it’s three.”

“Yeah, ok, asshole. What’s your fucking questions?”

“Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, Southside born and raised. I live a few blocks from here.”

Ian nodded, and his eyes shifted to Mickey’s knuckles, “Where’d you get that tattoo?”

“Prison.”

Ian’s eyes widened at that.

“Hey, you wanted to know.”

“How’d you end up there?”

“Class 3 felony. I was caught selling stolen goods.”

“How long were you in there for?”

Mickey shook his head, “Hey, you only got three questions. Now, shoot,” he pointed back to the game.

Ian rolled his eyes, and then quickly potted another ball, “How long were you in prison?”

“Jesus fuck! Why do you care?”

“I just want to know.”

“I was sentenced to five, but I got out in four, alright? No more prison questions.”

“Fine,” Ian said, and took a shot. He missed.

“Fucking finally,” Micky grumbled, and leaned down to take a shot. He sunk one into the middle right pocket.

“Ok, now you get to ask me a question.”

“Ok, how the fuck are you so good at pool?”

“I’m not that good.”

“Better than what I thought you were going to be.”

“Well, then I think this is a good lesson in assuming.”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

“I played in high school. I went to a private school that had all kinds of extracurricular activities.”

“Private school. So, you’re _rich_ rich, huh?”

When Ian didn’t answer, Micky rolled his eyes and took another shot. With a smile, he looked back up at Ian expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Frank’s a businessman, but I don’t know what all he’s invested in. He makes a shit load of money though.

“Who the fuck is Frank?”

“My dad,” Ian said the words like a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t mention the little fact that Frank technically wasn’t his father. He also didn’t mention that he let Mickey ask a question before he took another turn.

Mickey nodded, and then sunk another ball, “You live with him?”

“Yeah, but he’s never home. Always on business trips. When he is home, he’s either drunk or high. My siblings live with me too. It’s a pretty big house. We all have our own rooms.”

“Jesus,” Mickey muttered, and then missed his shot, “Fuck.”

Ian smiled and then potted two balls, “Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, I got four brothers. Well, two of them are half-brothers. Their dads are one of my uncles. I also gotta sister.”

“Parents?”

“Mom is dead, and my pops is,” Mickey stayed silent for a moment. A flash of worry crossed over his face, “My pops is gone.”

Ian nodded, and sunk another ball, “He dead too?”

“No,” Mickey’s voice was small, “just gone.”

Ian searched Mickey’s face. It was the first time he’d seen the other boy show any kind of emotion that wasn’t anger, or annoyance. He then looked down at the pool table and noticed that all his balls were gone. He cued up to hit the eight ball, and then missed.

Mickey took his shot and hit the corner pocket. He set his stick down and stared straight at Ian, “Why did you come back here?

“What?”

“You and your arrogant ass brother could have gone to any fucking bar is Chicago, but you didn’t. You came here, and then when I hassled you, you came back. Why?”

“Well,” Ian said, shifting awkwardly, “I came back to see you.”

“Why me?”

“I told you already, I thought you were cute. I-I like you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, and then picked up his stick to take another shot. He missed. “Shit,” he grumbled, and then looked up at Ian, “Y’know when most people look at me, the last thing they think of is cute.”

Ian gave Mickey a smirk, “Well, I’m not like most people,” he then leaned down and sunk the eight ball, winning the game.

Mickey let out a low whistle, and nodded his head, “Not bad for a rich kid. Good game.”

Ian set the pool stick down slowly, and then made his way towards Mickey, “I won. Remember our deal? Remember what I get if I win?” Ian was now inches away from Mickey’s face.

Mickey cleared his throat, his breath becoming more ragged, “Uh, I think it was, you get to-”

“I get to fuck the shit out of you,” Ian said in a low sensual voice.

“Yeah, that.”

“Hey, you two!” Kev called, bringing them both back to reality. They turned to see Kev, V, Tommy, and Kermit staring at them from the bar, “If you two are gonna fuck, at least use the restroom like a decent human being.”

“Yeah, no one wants to see that,” said Tommy.

“Then why the fuck are you looking?!” Mickey’s face was flushed with annoyance and embarrassment.

“The tv is broken,” Kermit said, pointing to the television.

“And what, we were more interesting? This ain’t a soap opera, bitch.”

Ian rolled his eyes affectionately, and then grabbed Mickey’s hand, “Wanna take this to your place?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Ian handed Kev money for the drinks, and then pulled Mickey towards the door.

The four at the bar started clapping, and Kev wolf whistled.

Ian laughed while Mickey flipped them off as they exited the Alibi.

They both booked it to Ian’s car. Ian got to it first, jumping into the front seat and starting it up. Mickey wasn’t too far behind as he hopped into the passenger seat.

“Nice car,” he commented, while Ian put it into drive.

“Where’s your house?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, gripping the dash when Ian floored it out of his parking space.

Ian glanced over at Mickey, who was already palming his erection through his jeans. It made Ian groan internally. He let one hand off the wheel and pushed down on Mickey’s half hard dick. He smiled mischievously, when he heard Mickey gasp. He continued to work him, while Mickey was stuttering out directions.

Finally, Mickey had enough and pushed Ian’s hand away, “Do you want me to cum before we even get there?! Keep you fucking hands on the wheel.”

It wasn’t a long drive, which didn’t surprise Ian since Mickey had said he only lived a few blocks away from the bar. Following Mickey’s instruction, he pulled up in front of a worn-down house. They both bolted out of the car like it was a race.

“Should I lock my doors,” Ian asked, following Mickey up the steps.

“Don’t matter. If someone wanted to break into your car, they’d just smash the windows,” he said, all but ripping the door off the hinges.

Ian’s eyes widened with worry, “What?”

“Just get in here,” Mickey grumbled, pulling Ian in.

Once the door was shut, Ian was on him. He backed Mickey up into the wall, and then stopped when he got close to the other boy’s face. Their breaths mingled for what seemed like eternity, and then Ian surged forward and kissed him.

Mickey let out a moan as their tongues danced feverishly. His breath hitched when Ian moved his mouth to Mickey’s neck. He grasped on to the back of Ian’s head like it was a lifeline.

Ian bit down hard, sucking on the mark, before tracing over it lightly with his tongue.

“What are you, a goddamn vampire?” Mickey gasped, before reaching out to undo Ian’s belt.

Ian pulled back from Mickey to take off his shirt, and then he took off Mickey’s, while Mickey pulled his pants down around his ankles. Ian stepped back to kick them off and discarded them on the back of the couch, while Micky worked to get his own pants off.

Finally, Ian was back on Mickey, running his hands up and down the other boy’s chest. He slid one hand to grasp around Mickey’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Ian hummed. He tasted like Tequila and cigarettes. Ian then brought his other hand down to the tent in Mickey’s boxers. He could feel Mickey was painfully hard for him and decided to put him out of his misery.

“Oh, god,” Mickey whispered, as Ian reached into his boxers to grab him.

Ian bit down on Mickey’s bottom lip, as he swiped over the head of his dick. He kept up the rhythm while Mickey bucked wildly into his hand. Ian then had the sudden thought that if they stayed like this, they might not even make it to the bedroom.

As if Mickey had just read his mind, he gasped out, “Bedroom.”

Ian let Mickey guide him to the bedroom, which had a sloppily written ‘Stay the fuck out!’ sign on the door. He shut the door behind them as Mickey took off his boxer and laid down on the bed. Ian slipped his off too, and then stopped a moment to drink in the sight that was before him.

Mickey was staring up at him with half lidded eyes, one hand rubbing and pinching his nipple, the other was slowly stroking himself.

Ian thought he was beautiful. His eyes roamed over Mickey’s creamy white skin. He made a mental note to mark up every inch of it, practically drooling at the thought of how red and purple hickeys would look littered across the smaller boy’s form.

“Are you just gonna fucking stare, or are you gonna get on me?”

Ian climbed on top of Mickey, staring down into his ice blue eyes. Then he kissed him again, this time it was slower, more methodical.

Mickey growled, “Jesus, skip this pussy shit. Just fuck me already.”

“Alright,” Ian huffed, “doggy style or face to face?”

Mickey pushed Ian back a bit so he could turn over to get on his hands and knees.

Ian felt a little disappointed since he wouldn’t get to see Mickey’s face when he came but decided that it didn’t really matter if they both got off soon.

Mickey reached over to the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom and some lube.

Ian grabbed the items from Mickey, who put his head into the crook of his elbow.

Ian wasted no time prepping Mickey. He rubbed Mickey’s hole before slipping his lubed-up finger in. He smiled when Mickey groaned in his arm. He slowly worked his finger in and out before adding another one. He kept up the same motions when Ian hit Mickey’s prostate.

“Fuck!” Mickey pushed back on to Ian’s finger, and then cursed again when Ian added a third.

Ian moved his fingers in and out of Mickey hitting his spot every time. It wasn’t even a minute later when Mickey’s head shot up to look back and glare at Ian.

“That’s enough foreplay. Fuck me now.”

Ian groaned, pulling his fingers out, “Aggressive much? You’re such a bossy bottom.”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

Ian ignored him, as he opened the condom and rolled it on. He lubed himself up and then pushed into Mickey, causing both to groan out. Ian then started up a steady rhythm.

Obviously, this wasn’t fast enough for Mickey, because he lifted his head again to complain, “C’mon, firecrotch, this all you got? I’m not made of glass. Fuck me like a man!”

Something in Ian snapped, and he roughly grabbed Mickey’s hair and reeled him back, “You want me to fuck you rough? I’ll fuck you so hard you’re gonna feel me in your throat,” he growled out, before pushing Mickey’s face into the bed. He then grabbed the other boy’s hips yanking him back to meet his thrusts which were now a lot harder. He dug his nails into Mickey’s ass, driving his cock right into Mickey’s prostate.

Mickey screamed into the pillow, slamming himself back into Ian. He reached down to jerk himself off, but Ian grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back.

Ian let go of Mickey’s arm to pull his head back again, “Don’t even fucking think about touching yourself,” he said huskily, before leaning his head down to nip harshly at Mickey’s shoulders, and then at his throat. When he was finished, he let Mickey fall back down on the bed. He was in heaven; between Mickey’s impossibly tight ass and the noises he was making, Ian wasn’t going to last much longer. Thankfully, neither was Mickey, because right then Ian felt the boy below him constrict, creating a vice like grip around his cock.

Mickey let out a broken sob as he came on the bed and his stomach. He let his entire body go limp while Ian continued to use his hole, not showing any signs of easing up.

Finally, with a grunt, Ian came hard inside the condom, stilling his hips and then pulled out. He rolled it off and got rid of it by tossing it into the trash can. He was still panting when he turned to look at Mickey, who was ass up and face down in the bed. “Fuck,” Ian finally managed to say, and then gently shook Mickey’s shoulder, “Hey, you ok?”

Mickey lifted himself with trembling arms, “Y-yeah, give me a minute.”

Ian decided to help him by turning him on his back. He looked down to see Mickey was trying to control his breathing. He looked completely fucked out.

Mickey stared up at Ian and gave him a blissful grin, “Fuck, that was good. Hand me my smokes, will ya?” he pointed to a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on his nightstand.

Instead of giving him the whole pack, Ian took out one and placed it between Mickey’s lips and then he lit it for him. He watched Mickey take a few puffs before passing it to him.

Mickey put one arm behind his head, “Haven’t had a fuck like that in a long time. Who knew you had it in you, Northside?”

Ian smiled and passed the cigarette back to Mickey who finished it off. When he saw that Mickey was starting to doze off, he quietly tried to move off the bed. He assumed Mickey wasn’t the kind of guy who cuddled after sex. He got up but was soon stopped by Mickey who had grabbed onto his wrist.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, home?”

“It’s like one o’clock. Just stay the night,” he mumbled half asleep.

Ian smiled as he felt his chest flutter. He got into bed after turning off the light, and then pulled covers over the both of them. Ian moved so he could hold Mickey, but the other boy elbowed him. “Ow, what the fuck?”

“I don’t spoon, bitch,” he grumbled.

Ian rolled his eyes, before getting himself comfortable. He could hear Mickey softly snoring next to him, and he let the sounds slowly lull him into sleep.


	2. Family Is All You Got

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter. Thanks for all of your kind comments and Kudos, and thanks for reading!

Ian was awoken by the light shining in through the blinds. He peeked out through the covers to see it was daylight out. He laid there a moment, letting the events of last night play through his head and it made him smile. He didn’t expect to get that far with Mickey, but he was glad that he did, because that was probably the best sex he’d had in his life.

Finally, with a grunt, Ian turned over to see that Mickey wasn’t in the bed next to him. Ian wondered how long he’d been asleep, and then went to check his phone only to realize that his phone wasn’t with him, but somewhere with his clothes, which he’d left in the living room.

Ian got out of bed and picked up his boxers off the floor. He looked around the room as he slid them on, trying to see what all he could gather about Mickey by the contents of his room. There wasn’t a lot to go by, other than Mickey was a slob. Clothes were strung out all over the floor, beer cans and bottles were scattered everywhere, and dresser drawers were open. It looked like someone tried to rob the room, ransacked it, realized there wasn’t anything of value, and then trashed it even more as revenge for wasting their time.

When he opened the door, he could immediately hear chatter coming from the other room. Scratching the back of his head, he walked out into the living room.

“Holy fuck,” said a feminine voice.

Ian glanced over to see a girl with dark hair, around his age, gawking at him, and eyeing him up and down. She was sitting in the kitchen, with the boy that was at the bar. Iggy, Ian thinks his name was. Another boy, one with curly blond hair, was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at him in a cold yet curious way that made Ian’s skin crawl.

Ian’s eyes widened, realizing he was only in his underwear, “Uh, hi.”

“Wow, I mean, Mickey said you were hot, but,” the girl smiled wide.

Before Ian could answer, Mickey came out of one of the bedrooms. He gave a slight head nod to Ian as he passed him on his way to the kitchen, “Finally decide to drag your ass outta bed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ian’s eyes shifted uncomfortably to the three faces who were still staring him down, “Y-you didn’t tell me you lived with anyone else.”

Mickey opened the fridge to get a beer, “Yeah,” he said pointing to the two boys, “these are my brothers, fuck head one and fuck head two. And this, Is my whore of a sister.”

“Fuck you, dick!” the girl spat in Mickey’s direction, “I’m Mandy,” she said, still smiling at Ian, “And you’re the guy who was blowing my brother’s back out at twelve in the morning. I could hear you from my room.”

Ian was mortified, “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I thought we were the only ones in the house.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mickey sneered, “I’ve heard guys banging you since middle school, and you wanna pull this shit with me?”

“Shut up, Mickey!”

“You shut up, bitch!”

“I haven’t been with that many guys. Colin and Iggy bring girls home all the time.”

“Colin and Iggy will fuck anything with a snatch,” Mickey pointed out, earning a glare from Colin and an eye roll from Iggy.

“At least we’re not the one’s who’re so afraid of pussy that it turned him gay,” Iggy sniggered, causing Mandy to slap his arm.

“That’s not how being gay works, stupid.”

Ian had never felt so put out in his life. He basically just met Mickey, and now he was meeting his entire family. Ian didn’t think he could get more embarrassed until the front door opened.

“Hey, we’re back,” a blonde girl said, carrying a box into the kitchen. She was followed by two other boys, both with dark hair, carrying similar boxes.

The blonde girl set her box down, and then set her eyes on Ian, “Woah,” she turned to Mandy, “This the guy you were texting me about last night?”

Mandy nodded, and the blonde girl looked at Mickey, “Damn, good job.”

Mickey gave Ian a smirk.

“I’m Sandy, by the way,” the blonde girl said, and then she threw her thumb back at the guys who came in with her, “Jaime and Joey.”

“Hey, hey!” Mickey snapped when Jaime slammed the box down on the counter, “be careful, numbnuts. You’ll ruin the product if you keep slinging it around like that.

Sandy grabbed a beer from the fridge, “Oh, the Russian from hell is waiting for you outside.”

Mickey gave her a grave look, “Fuck, are you serious?”

“She said that you need to take Yev for the day.”

“Fuck! This is her week. I’ve already had to take him twice this week.”

Sandy shrugged as Mickey pushed past her and went out the door.

Ian felt paralyzed where he stood. This was a lot to take in. He watched silently as Colin, Jaime and Joey take their unlabeled boxes out through the kitchen door, and Iggy got up to make himself a bowl of cereal.

Sandy sipped her beer and took a seat next to Mandy, “So, that your red SUV out front?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks pretty expensive.”

“It’s a Jeep Grand Cherokee. I bought it a few months ago.”

Sandy nodded, shared a look with Mandy, and then turned back to Ian, “Wow, you must have been great in the sack. Mickey doesn’t fuck with yuppies. Your hands are pretty big. I bet your dick is huge.”

Ian shrunk back with embarrassment at Sandy’s derogatory comment.

“It must be,” Mandy grinned, “From how Mickey was screaming, it sounded like he was being murdered.”

“Will you two bitches shut the fuck up,” Iggy said, with a mouthful of cereal, “I’m trying to eat.”

The front door opened, and Ian hoped it was Mickey, because he didn’t know what to do at this point. However, it wasn’t Mickey, but a young boy with shaggy dirty blonde hair.

The boy sat his blue backpack down on the couch, and then walked into the kitchen, ignoring Ian entirely.

“Hey, buddy,” Mandy said, “You eat yet?”

“No,” the boy’s answer was short.

“You want me to make you some Poptarts?”

The boy grinned, nodding his head, and then went to sit down. It wasn’t until he sat down when he noticed Ian’s presence. The boy stared at Ian for a minute, perplexed. He had the same blue eyes as Mickey, and even cocked his brow like Mickey did. “Are you one of my uncles?” the boy finally said.

“Uh, no,” Ian said.

“He’s a friend of your dad,” Sandy said, not taking her eyes off Ian.

This was Mickey’s son. Ian didn’t even know Mickey was a father. How could he? The only interactions he had with the guy were either vituperation, or really hot sex. It surprised him that Mickey even had a kid. Ian didn’t think he seemed like the fatherly type.

“Oh, are you a friend friend, or a sex friend?”

Mandy and Sandy giggled at the question.

Ian’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. The question was innocent, but Ian didn’t feel comfortable giving an answer. Instead, he looked to Mandy, who had just set down the boy’s breakfast. “Hey, where’s your bathroom?”

“In Mickey’s room.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, going back into the bedroom, and into the bathroom. He shut the door and let out a sigh of relief. He needed a moment to think.

Ian turned on the sink and splashed some water in his face. He used a towel that was hanging next to him, and he stared deep into the mirror. He gazed briefly over his shirtless body and thought about Mickey. Being with him last night was amazing. Not just the sex, but playing pool with him at the Alibi, and talking with him. Ian realized then that he was being a bit ridiculous. He knew how big families were like, so he shouldn’t have been freaking out over Mickey’s.

He decided to go back out there and have an actual conversation with them. He wanted them to like him and see that he wasn’t just some Northside asshole. He wanted to spend more time with Mickey, because he wasn’t lying to Mickey when he said that he liked him.

Ian braced himself, ready to face Mickey’s family, when there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

“Your phone is ringing.”

Ian opened the door to reveal Sandy standing there with his phone in her hand.

“Found it on the floor next to the couch. Someone keeps trying to call you,” she said, handing Ian the phone, “Who’s Debs?”

“My sister,” he said.

“Ooh is she cute?” Sandy inquired.

Ian rolled his eyes before shutting the door. He answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“At a friend’s house.”

“Did you leave late? I remember you were still on the couch when I went to bed.”

“It was kind of a last-minute thing. I didn’t want to wake any one up. Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, Frank came back this morning,” Debbie said, and Ian could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

Ian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Really?”

Frank had been away on a business trip. He didn’t tell anyone where it was, or when he’d be back. That was common with Frank. One time he and Monica left for a trip for an entire year without telling anyone they were leaving and left them with their nanny at the time, who didn’t even speak English. Ian was about nine then. Frank was always coming and going, and Ian silently hoped one day Frank would leave on a trip and never come back. Unfortunately, he always showed back up like a bad rash that wouldn’t go away.

“He wants everyone back home. He’s making Sheila cook a big lunch to celebrate his return, or whatever.”

“Yeah, I would rather chew glass.”

“Whatever suit yourself. Remember what happened last time?”

Ian did remember. When Frank comes home from a trip, he’ll call the family together for a family meal. He did this every fucking time, and the only reason he does it is to feel like he’s regained control over his children. He’d call everyone over, and then pick at each of them one by one. The worst part is that it was mandatory. Last time Frank came home and called them for dinner, Ian told him to fuck off. Frank changed the lock to his bedroom door and hid the key. It had taken him three days to find it.

“Shit, fine,” Ian grunted, “I’ll be there soon.”

Ian hung up his phone and walked back out into the living room. Mickey was back inside, talking to Mandy. Mickey’s son had moved from his seat in the kitchen to the couch.

“I swear to god, it’s like she gets some sick pleasure in fucking me over,” he complained, while Mandy just rolled his eyes.

Ian noticed his shirt laying on the floor next to the couch. He picked it up and put it on. He looked over and grabbed his pants off the couch. The boy looked up at him and smiled. Ian smiled back.

“Hey,” Mickey said to Ian, “You leavin’?”

“Uh, yeah. My sister called. My dad called a family meeting, so-”

“A family meeting?” Mickey sounded annoyed.

“Yeah, he gets the family together once he gets back from one of his business trips,” Ian explained, pushing his pants up past his hips. He didn’t want to leave, fuck he really didn’t. He wanted to stay with Mickey, but Frank would have his ass if he were late. He gave Mickey a small smile, “Sorry about this. I kinda wanted to stay longer.”

“It’s whatever. You got your own shit to worry about, Northside.”

Ian opened the front door to leave, but then he turned to look at Mickey, “See ya later?”

“Maybe.”

Ian smiled at him one last time before shutting the door.

He thought about Mickey all the way back to the house. He thought about Mickey’s family as well. They weren’t that different from his own. Ian’s family may have had more money, but they still bickered and laughed like any other family.

Other than Ian, there were eight other people who lived in the house. There was his older sister, Fiona, who was like a parental figure to Ian and his siblings, his brother Lip, who usually lived at school, but would come home on breaks, his younger brother Carl, who also lived away at military school, but like Lip would come back on breaks, his sister Debbie and her three year old daughter Franny, and his youngest brother Liam. There was also the nanny, Sheila. Frank technically lived with them, he owned the house, but he would come and go so often he was basically a guest in his own home.

When he entered through the doors, he was immediately greeted by Sheila.

“Ian, you’re here. I knew you would be. I told your father you wouldn’t miss lunch,” she said in a very happy singsong way.

Ian gave her a kind smile, “You know I wouldn’t miss one of your meals, Sheila.”

“Oh, you’re such a sweet boy. C’mon, everyone is waiting on you,” Sheila ushered Ian to follow her.

Sheila Jackson was their current, and longest lasting live-in nanny. Ian was fifteen when she came into their lives, and he was happy to have her still here nine years later. Sheila started her business as a nanny after she lost her husband and daughter in a car accident. Lip said that was probably why she liked it here so much. She found joy and purpose in taking care of a father and children to fill the void of the father and child that were ripped away from her. She cared about them a lot, which was more than Monica and Frank ever did. She loved doting on Debbie the most when she was a little girl, and now Franny. She loved taking care of Liam too. She did the cooking, most of the cleaning, made up the children’s school and extracurricular activity schedules. Aside from the extra maid here and there, and the gardener, she did it all. But the thing Ian like about her the most was that she never tried to be their mother. She knew that Fiona was the one they looked up to for motherly advice, and Sheila never stepped on her toes. So, Ian and the rest of them were always respectful of her, because no other nanny cared for them like she did. Besides, Frank never gave her the appreciation she deserved, so they were all in the same boat when it came to that.

When Ian entered the dining room, he was greeted with a chorus of “Hi, Ian.” He ruffled Liam’s hair, and kissed Franny on the head, before sitting down at his spot at the table. Frank, of course, would be the last one in.

“Hey, glad you decided to show up.” Fiona said, in a cheery voice. She looked beautiful and vibrant as usual. She’d recently been on cloud nine ever since she got engaged to her boyfriend Jimmy, who currently was sitting next to her and had an arm around her shoulder.

Ian rolled his eyes, “Didn’t want Frank to change the locks to my room again.”

Lip laughed, “Remember the time he put that raccoon in my room, because I didn’t show up to brunch after he got back from Costa Rica?”

“Oh, shit I forgot about that,” Fiona said, “Thank god you’d had your rabies shots.”

“Jesus,” Jimmy muttered into his mimosa.

“Welcome to the Gallagher family, Jimbo,” Lip grinned.

Ian snickered and turned his attention to Jimmy, “Fiona actually got you to come to this?”

“Hey, we had a deal. I go to whatever shitty thing her dad forces her to attend, and she comes with me to my family’s Sunday dinners. We get to suffer together,” he shrugged.

“It’s called compromise,” she said, kissing Jimmy on the cheek.

They all groaned in disgust, when Frank entered the room. He was drunk as always, but his hair was slicked back, and he was in a nicely ironed suit. Courtesy of Sheila, of course. Though, he reeked of booze and cigar smoke. Which just goes to show that no matter how much Frank looked the part of a successful and happy man, he would never be able to get rid of the stench of disdain and failure, knowing that he’d never be truly happy. It didn’t matter how much money he had. He forced a smile, “Hello, my six ungrateful children. I’m sure you’ve all been eagerly awaiting my return.”

Ian rolled his eyes at Frank’s sarcastic remarks. He watched Frank sit down at the head of the table, his eyes slowly roaming over all of them. He reminded Ian of a malevolent king, or a dictator, scornfully looking down on his people.

“Oh, you left?” Lip took a sip of his drink, “Didn’t notice.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Y’know, now that I think about it, the house has been a lot more peaceful. Like there isn’t some type of evil presence looming over us.”

“You know, Philip, there’s a difference between being smart and being a smartass.”

“Good thing I excel at both then,” Lip smirked.

Frank ignored him, “Now, I know it must have been hard to pull yourselves from whatever it was you were doing. School, or private lessons, or driving around in your cars, or even just idling around the house, all things that that _I_ pay for by the way. It’s important that we sit down as a family unit occasionally. Get caught up with each other.”

“Oh, _we_ do,” Fiona cuts in, “ _We_ talk every night. You leave for weeks or months on end and don’t call anyone of us.”

“And do any of you call me? Think about that, Fiona. When have you ever reached out to dear old dad, when it wasn’t about money, hmm?”

Fiona rolled her eyes as Jimmy held her tighter.

“Speaking of,” Frank turned to Fiona and Jimmy, “How much will I be shelling out for this wedding? It’s always tradition for the father of the bride to pay.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to make you feel it in your wallet,” Fiona said, crossing her arms.

“Fine, fine, always as spiteful as ever. Just order what you need, and I’ll cut a check.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m spiteful?”

“And bitter,” Frank remarks, “You always have been. Like, when you told me you were going to be a business investor, but decided to waste your time buying that shitty diner, and a laundromat over on the Southside,” he said with a laugh, “You didn’t even turn it in to anything, you just took over the lease.”

“I renovated it. Why tear down something that services the community?”

“Please,” Frank scoffed, “You have an opportunity to make some real money here. It’s an up and coming neighborhood. You can buy up as many of those shitty businesses as you want and turn them into yogurt shops, or clothing stores, or whatever the fuck the young people are into these days. Instead, you decide to squander your potential.”

“Well, I guess I have a heart, and a conscience, Frank.”

“That was your first mistake.”

“C’mon, Frank,” Jimmy argued, giving Fiona’s shoulder a rub, “She’s keeping the culture intact, instead of gutting it. She’s a good person.”

“Like I said, squandered potential. She has terrible decision-making skills. You can tell that from how she runs her businesses, and her choices in men.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Frank. Is me marrying a doctor not prestigious enough for you?”

“You should have dated that young man from my investment firm like I asked you too.”

“Jimmy saves lives, and I don’t have to explain my choices to you,” Fiona said forcefully. The sound of her voice let everyone know that specific conversation was over.

Frank sighed, and then turned his attention to Lip, “Alright, son, your turn.”

“Oh, goody,” Lip muttered.

“How was your semester? All A’s I hope.”

“Yeah.”

“You still majoring in bio engineering?”

“Yup.”

“Have you decided to drop that major and study something that could get you a lot more money?”

“Well, considering I’m a grad student and already have my bachelor’s, it might be late now to change my career path. Besides, I _will_ be making a shit ton of money, not like that matters.”

“Yes, but you could be making so much more. Your mind is brilliant, you’re like fucking Rain Man. Yet, like your sister, you decide to lower yourself. It’s all that bleeding-heart crap.”

“A bleeding-heart is a lot better than the cold unmoving thing that you have, Frank.”

“Do you have any plans for summer vacation?” Fiona asked, probably in an attempt to keep Lip from punching Frank out.

“Ugh, yeah,” Lip groaned, “Professor Youens got me an internship at some bike shop on the Southside. He thinks that I need work experience, and I can’t go back to interning at that tech company since the FBI tanked them. Plus, the guy who owns the shop is supposed to be my new sponsor, and he’s looking for unpaid work since he has a kid on the way, or something like that? Kill two birds with one stone, I guess. Youens swears by him though, so I’m doing it.”

“Good for you, Lip,” Debbie smiled.

“Thanks, Debs.”

“Yeah, man, we’re proud of you,” Ian said, clasping his brother on the shoulder.

Frank scoffed.

Fiona rolled her eyes, “Something to add, Frank?”

“Your professor wants you to waste your time with all that AA crap. I just don’t see why you idolize him.”

Lip got really quiet for a moment, but then he spoke, “Maybe because he’s been more of a father to me in the five years I’ve known him, then you’ve been in my whole life. Maybe because when I was drinking so much, I was passing out in my own vomit, he convinced me to go to rehab. Maybe because he saw worth in me, when you don’t give a shit about me, or any of us really. Maybe because he’s not you.”

The room fell silent for a few seconds until Debbie spoke up, “I’ve been doing really well in my interior design classes.”

Lip nodded, “That’s good, Debs.”

“And Franny learned her ABC’s,” she said, tickling her daughter causing Franny to burst out into a fit of giggles.

“I got a 1250 on my SAT scores,” Carl said, “This summer I want to volunteer more. Y’know give back to the community? It wouldn’t hurt my application for West Point either.”

“I could ask my friend Trevor if they need volunteer help down at the youth shelter,” Ian suggested.

Carl smiled, “Yeah, man, that would be great.”

“I’m going to basketball camp this summer,” Liam said.

Soon the room was alive with chatter from the Gallagher siblings, talking about summer plans.

“I want to know,” Frank said loud enough to get everyone’s attention, “what Ian’s been up to.”

Ian, who had kept quiet through most of the meal, looked up at Frank. God, he hated him so much. He hoped that if he kept his head down, no one would ask him where he’d been last night. He could avoid concerned questions from his siblings. Fucking Frank ruins everything. He lived to make Ian’s life hell. “I’m studying to be an EMT, Frank, you know that,” Ian said, and then continued eating.

“As much as I would love to reprimand you about the poor life choices you made over the years, like not going to college, getting discharged from the military and becoming a stripper, becoming an EMT, which I don’t have to tell you how disappointing that is, son. All of the money that went to your private school education going right down the drain. No, I want to know about where you were last night.”

Fiona groaned, “What are you talking about, Frank? Ian was here last night.”

“Well, he wasn’t when I got home around midnight,” Frank countered.

Fiona’s face changed from annoyance to worry. She looked at Ian, “Wait, you left last night?”

Ian sighed, “I’m twenty-three years old, Fiona. I’m allowed to leave the house.”

“Well, a text would have been nice, Ian.”

“You didn’t even know I was gone until Frank brought it up.”

“Well, yeah, because I thought you left early this morning to go to the gym or something. I didn’t know you left in the middle of the night.”

“It’s fine, Fi,” Debbie said, “Ian was at a friend’s house last night. He told me this morning over the phone.”

“A friend called the Alibi Room?” Frank questioned

Now, it was Lip’s turn to look worried, “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“I went to Ian’s car and looked through his GPS before coming in for lunch.”

Ian’s mouth dropped, because what the fuck? “Why would you do that?”

“Can’t a father be worried about his son’s whereabouts, when he comes home in the middle of the night to see that he’s gone?”

“Uh, fuck you, Frank. That is not what this is about.”

Lip turned to Ian, “You went back to the bar last night?”

“I-” Ian began.

“Wait, I thought you said you went to a friend’s house?” Debbie questioned.

“Guys, stop hounding him,” Carl butted in.

Ian silently thanked Carl, but he knew he had to provide some sort of answer. Ian decided to choose his words carefully, “I went to the bar last night with some friends, and then I stayed the night.”

Lip raised an eyebrow, “What friends do you have on the Southside?”

“Trevor,” Ian said, which wasn’t technically a lie.

Lip didn’t look convinced, “So, you left after everyone went to bed, and didn’t mention anything to anyone, and then you and Trevor went to a bar in the seediest area in Chicago?”

“Yeah, Lip.”

“So, if I called Trevor, he would tell me that you two were hanging out last night?”

“Yup,” Ian lied.

“This Trevor, is he your boyfriend?” Frank inquired.

“What? No, he’s just a friend.”

“Oh, so you must have gone home with some other boy last night then.”

Ian’s head snapped towards Frank, “What?”

“Ian, son, I’ve been around the block a few times. You think I don’t know the walk of shame, when I see it?”

It was official, Ian was going to kill Frank.

“You leave late at night to go to a bar, and don’t tell anyone where you’ve been. You come home and don’t speak; you don’t look anyone in the eye. Your hair is disheveled, lips are chapped, and your shirt’s inside out for god’s sake. I’m surprised no one noticed,” Frank smirked, as all eyes went to Ian, “Who’s the lucky ladyboy, son?”

Now, Ian was at a loss for words. He could have denied it. However, Frank caught him off guard, and Ian was sure everyone could see that Frank’s assumptions had been correct.

Jimmy laughed, “Ian, you dog. Sneaking out for a late-night booty call.”

Fiona sighed in relief, “Jesus, Ian, that’s it? There’s nothing wrong with that. Fuck, it’s been three months since your breakup with ‘you know who’. It’s good that your putting yourself out there again. You didn’t have to lie to us.”

Ian didn’t dare look at Lip, because he knew the expression he’d be faced with wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

“You went back to look for him, didn’t you?” It was a question that Lip already knew the answer to.

Ian didn’t respond.

“And, so you what? Fucked him?”

“Lip,” Debbie scolded, covering Franny’s ears.

Ian finally turned to Lip, “Yeah, yeah I fucked him.”

“Jesus Christ, Ian. I told you not to get mixed up with that guy, and you promised me you wouldn’t.”

“I liked him, Lip. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that your last fucking boyfriend cheated on you and caused you to go into a manic state. You just got back to your old self, and now you’re sneaking out of the house to sleep with a guy who you barely even know.”

“I got to know him plenty last night,” Ian shot back.

“The last time we were there he tried to pick a fight with you. Did you even know he was gay before going back over there?”

Ian didn’t have an answer for that.

“Are you serious? What if he wasn’t? What if you went over there and you got fag bashed or something? Nobody knew where you were. Fuck, Ian, do you know how stupid and dangerous that was?”

“Ok, that’s enough,” Fiona cut in, “Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?”

“Last week, Ian and I went to this bar over on the Southside, and we almost got into it with this jackass. I guess Ian decided that it was ok to go back there alone and proposition him.”

Fiona was shocked, “What?”

“Nothing bad happened.”

“But something bad could have happened, Ian,” Fiona reasoned.

“Are you off your meds?” Lip asked suddenly.

Ian stared at him, “I can’t believe you’d ask me that.”

“Just answer the question.”

“No, I’m not off my meds,” Ian said slowly, voice trembling with sudden anger. He calmed himself before he spoke again, “I went back, because I wanted to see him again. I could tell he was like me. And when I went back, and gotten to know him, I knew I made the right choice. He made me feel good.”

Lip got close to his face, “He is a piece of violent Southside trash, and you’re better than him. You don’t have to lower yourself for him. Listen to yourself. He made you feel good? Ian, the first thing he said to you was a homophobic insult. He’s aggressive, he’s rude, he’s dirty, and he is going nowhere in life.”

“Sounds like your mother’s brand of crazy,” Frank comments.

The room went silent once again.

“Ok, lunch is over,” Fiona said, getting up from her chair.

“Already? But we were having so much fun,” Frank said.

“I gotta get Franny to her doctor’s appointment anyway,” Debbie sighed, and picked her daughter up.

“Hey, Debs, mind driving me to a meeting? I gotta meet with my new sponsor. It isn’t that far from the pediatrician,” Lip said.

“Sure.”

Lip stood up, “Hopefully, when I get back, my brother will have come to his senses.”

Ian chewed his bottom lip. He knew why his brother was acting like this, and it wasn’t purely because he was concerned with Ian’s health. About two years ago, Lip fell for some girl from the Southside, who ended up cheating on him and getting pregnant. Ian knew Lip was deeply hurt by the experience, but it didn’t mean he could judge everyone from the Southside. “You know, Lip,” Ian said as his brother walked away from the table, “Just because you got your heart broke from some Southside chick, doesn’t mean I made the wrong decision.”

Ian didn’t have to turn around to know his brother was looking at him. Soon he heard his footstep fade as Lip walked out of the dining room.

“Nice going, Frank,” Fiona said, “We’re so fucking glad your home.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, my eldest daughter.”

Fiona looked to Liam, “Hey, you want to help me and Jimmy with some wedding planning, peanut?”

Liam nodded, and then got up to follow Jimmy out of the room.

Fiona then looked to Ian, “You ok?”

Ian nodded.

“We wouldn’t worry if we didn’t care so much. You know that, right?”

Ian nodded again.

“Ok,” Fiona gave him a sad smile and left the room.

“Well, that was lovely. Always nice to have the family together. Right, boys?”

Ian and Carl glared at Frank as they watched him get up from his chair and walk out of the room whistling to himself.

Ian put his head in his hands. Everything about this morning had been shit. He had to leave Mickey’s house only to come home and be berated by his family. It was all Frank’s fault. He’d planned to humiliate Ian from the moment he sat down at the fucking table. And what for? Ian had never done anything to him, but Frank hated him anyway and he didn’t really know why. And to bring up Monica like that? It was only to get under Ian’s skin, he knew that. It still didn’t make it hurt any less.

“You know, if we ever decided to kill Frank, I know a place in the woods where we can hide the body,” Carl commented, bringing Ian out of deep thought.

Ian huffed out a laugh, “I don’t think we’d have to. When the police find out, they’d probably give us an award.”

Carl laughed at that, and then he said, “So, are you seeing someone new?”

Ian shrugged, “Not really, I think it was a one-time thing.”

“Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”

Ian smiled a little to himself, “No.”

“Lip doesn’t like him.”

“Lip can fuck off. He doesn’t like anybody.”

“It was kind of irresponsible,” Carl chewed at the bottom of his lip, “You can’t just leave to go to the Southside in the middle of the night. It’s a dangerous enough place as it is, but you going around there and asking guys to hook up with you is borderline suicidal. People get shot down there over that.”

Ian looked up at Carl, he could see the genuine worry in his brother’s eyes. “I know,” he said finally, “I’m sorry. I should have told you where I was going, but I was afraid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since I was diagnosed, it’s like everyone walks on eggshells around me. I feel like they’re afraid of setting me off and triggering my manic state. It’s been worse the past few months. I can’t even breathe without one of you questioning me if I’m ok, or if I took my meds that day.”

“Ian,” Carl said softly, “You broke into your ex boyfriend’s apartment. You climbed up to the third story window and broke in using a rock. You accused the person he cheated on with of holding him hostage. You’re lucky he didn’t call the police.”

Ian felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

“It’s hard to handle this sometimes, and I know it isn’t easy on you guys. I’m just sick of everyone treating me like I’m _her_. I’m not. I’m taking my meds. I’m _trying_.”

“I know.”

Ian let out a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes. He hated this. He hated talking about his illness, or his mother. It hurt him to think about it. He let his hand fall to his side. He reached inside of his pocket to grab the silver knife. It was the only thing he had left of Monica.

When he couldn’t find it, he reached in the other pocket. It wasn’t there. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The knife, it’s gone.”

“The knife?”

“Monica’s knife,” Ian said frantically, looking through both of his pockets again.

“Oh,” Carl said, finally realizing what Ian had meant.

Before her death, Monica bestowed upon her children and husband one gift to remember her by. Since she knew her time was coming to an end, she bought seven mementos, all silver, all engraved. For Fiona it was a ring, which she had put in the casket with their mother at the funeral. She didn’t want it, and she wanted any memory of her mother to be buried with her. For Lip it was a money clip, which he didn’t even have anymore. Frank had stolen it from him when he needed to pay off gambling debts, along with the silver flask Monica had left him. Lip didn’t seem to mind. Debbie and Franny had matching charm bracelets, which Debbie lost somewhere in her closet. She hadn’t put in much effort to look for them. Carl had gotten cufflinks, which he used for cocktail parties and his military uniform. Liam had gotten a watch, which he kept safe in a box somewhere in his room.

Monica had left Ian a knife. At the time, she still thought he had aspirations of going back into the army. Ian didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d never get back into the military with his illness. The illness she passed on to him.

Unlike his siblings, Ian held onto his memento wherever he went. He didn’t leave home without it.

“It’s not here,” Ian jumped up from the table, and then looked under it. He then went out to his car, checking to see if he set it down, or if it had fallen out of his pocket and under the seats.

Carl came up behind him, “Did you find it?”

“No.”

“Calm down. Do you remember having it out anywhere?”

Ian didn’t, until he remembered Mickey, and then he relaxed. It probably fell out of his pants and is on Mickey’s floor somewhere, “I think I might know where it is.”

Ian didn’t waste time driving back to Mickey’s. Although, the main reason was to get his knife back, he couldn’t help but feel his chest flutter with excitement when thinking about seeing the dark-haired boy again.

“This is where he lives?” Carl asked when they pulled up to Mickey’s house.

“Yeah, why?”

“Are we like, uh,” Carl looked around at the neighborhood, “are we safe?”

Ian laughed, “What’s wrong Corporal Carl? The Southside scene too much for you?”

Carl stiffened, “No.”

“Good,” Ian smirked, getting out of the car. He walked up to the front door with Carl on his heels. Ian knocked on the door.

“Is that dried blood?” Carl commented, pointing at a stain on a mattress that was leaned up against the side of the house.

Ian’s eyes widened, “Uh, probably nothing to worry about,” he said as the door opened to reveal Mickey. Ian felt a wave in his chest, and he smiled. Mickey, however, wasn’t smiling.

“Northside? The fuck do you want?”

“Hey, Mickey,” he gestured to Carl, “This is Carl, he’s my brother.”

Mickey gave him a look, “Ok?”

Carl greeted him with a smile and a nod, “Nice to meet you. Also, Question. Is that stain blood?” he pointed to the mattress.

Mickey scowled.

Ian laughed nervously, “Don’t mind him. He’s never really been down to the Southside. Actually, a friend of mine is letting him help out down at the youth shelter. He needs to beef-up his West Point application, but also it’s a good experience for him, and-”

“Is there a reason why you’re here?”

“Oh, uh, well, I think I lost something, and I just wanted to check if it was here. You haven’t seen a silver knife lying around, have you? It has my name engraved on it. It’s really sentimental to me.”

“Nope, haven’t seen it.”

“Could I go in there and look?”

Mickey moved to block the door, “We’re actually busy.”

“Oh, well it will only take a second,” Ian reasoned, but Mickey didn’t move, “Could I come back another time?”

“Yeah, probably not the best idea,” Mickey said in a cold monotoned voice, “Your knife isn’t here.”

Ian frowned, “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Nope.”

“Then why-?”

“Look, the sex was good, or whatever, but don’t be bringing your ass around here like we’re friends. You were only a fuck for me, and nothing else.”

Ian stared at Mickey in shock. He knew he probably wasn’t going to become this guy’s new boyfriend, but fuck that was harsh. He looked over at Carl, who was glaring at Mickey.

“Fine, I get that,” Ian said, trying not to sound hurt, “But, please if there’s any chance my knife could be in there, I need to get it.”

“Look, I fucking told you before-”

“I know, but maybe it fell out somewhere. My pants were lying on the back of the couch, maybe it fell in between the cushions. Your son was sitting there when I picked them up. Maybe he’s seen it, or maybe he…” Ian trailed off, but Mickey got what he was about to say.

“Maybe he what?”

“I mean, maybe he picked it up and didn’t know it belonged to somebody. It’s fine if he took it, but I just want it back.”

Mickey stared at Ian in disbelief, “Are you accusing my kid of stealing from you?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to know if he knows where it is.”

“Ok,” Mickey, nodded, and scratched the corner of his eyebrow. Usually it was something Mickey did that Ian found sexy, but right now not so much. Then suddenly, Mickey pushed the front door wide open, making it slam against the wall. The noise made Ian and Carl jump.

“Yo, Yev!” Mickey called inside.

Ian looked over Mickey’s shoulder to see ‘Yev’ and Iggy playing videogames.

“Yevgeny!” Mickey called again.

Yevgeny looked up from his game.

Mickey motioned to Ian, “You steal his knife?”

Yevgeny shook his head.

Mickey crossed his arms, “There, he said he didn’t take it.”

“Maybe he’s lying,” Carl said.

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. He looked beyond pissed, but he kept his voice calm. “Let me get this straight. You come to my neighborhood, and you demand entry into my home, and then you accuse my son of stealing your shit? Fuck you, and fuck all you rich Northside pricks. Go back to your private schools and gated communities, because you don’t belong down here. Now, get the fuck off my property, before I show you how we treat trespassers over on the Southside.”

Carl stood his ground, “You don’t scare me.”

“Yo, Iggy,” Mickey called back into the house, “go get my fucking pistol.”

“We’re leaving,” Ian said, pulling Carl back, “I’m sorry I came back here.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mickey said, before slamming the door shut.

“Douchebag,” Carl grumbled as he walked away.

Ian felt his heart drop into his stomach as he followed Carl back to the car. He didn’t mean for it to escalate like that. This was all his fault.

“Fuck that guy, Ian. Lip was right, you’re better than him,” Carl said when they started to drive off.

Ian just nodded, but he couldn’t shake off the words Mickey had said to him. He watched in the rearview mirror as the house faded slowly in the distance. What did he do wrong?


	3. Mickey Milkovich: Dirtiest White Boy In America

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's chapter three. Thank you for continuing to support this story, and thanks for reading!

Monday morning came like a slap in the face.

Mickey woke up, feeling like shit. He looked over next to him to see Yevgeny fast asleep. And why wouldn’t he be? It wasn’t like he was the one getting the shit kicked out of him all night. Mickey rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wake himself up. Finally, he did get up and took a shower. The water pressure sucked like always, but at least it was hot. Though, it would have been nice to have that last winter when the water heater broke.

When Mickey exited the shower, he dried off and slipped on his work clothes. He walked over to the bed and gently shook Yevgeny awake, “Hey, sleepy head, wake up.”

Yevgeny kicked out at him, “No. Let me sleep,” he whined.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Get up. I’m not telling you again.”

It was Yevgeny’s first day of summer day camp. Kev and V suggested it to him, when they were signing their kids up. Mickey thought it was a great idea. Yevgeny could actually have fun this summer, instead of having to be stuck at the garage with him all day or staying here with his criminal family. The only problem was the cost. Mickey had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but it was worth it. On the upside, he’d only have to pay the camp every other week, since Yevgeny would be with his mother, Svetlana.

With a yawn he walked into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He then started to make breakfast.

Mickey opened the fridge to find there was only a half-gallon of milk, some condiments, and a carton of eggs, “Fuck,” he muttered. He needed to go shopping. He grabbed the carton of eggs and the milk before closing the door. Mickey then opened the carton to see only eggshells, “What the fuck?”

Mickey looked over at his brother sleeping on the couch, “Fucking Iggy,” he grumbled.

Yevgeny trailed into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Not eggs,” Mickey stated, tossing the empty carton on the counter, “Want some cereal?”

“Poptarts.”

Mickey sighed and got the cereal down. There was only enough for one bowl, which meant Mickey would have to skip breakfast, but he didn’t mind as long as Yevgeny got to eat. “No Poptarts. You ate the last of them Saturday, remember?”

Yevgeny made a face, “That cereal’s stale.”

“It’s fucking food isn’t it?” he snapped, but soon regretted it when he saw his son flinch. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Look, I’ll get Sandy or somebody to pick up some groceries today. We’ll get you those blueberry Poptarts you like so much, ok?”

Yevgeny nodded, and then sat down at the table, “Blueberry is the best,” he affirmed as Mickey set the bowl of cereal in front of his son.

Mickey just finished brewing the coffee when Sandy came out of the room she shared with Mandy. She sat down next to Yevgeny, “Morning,” she smiled and ruffled Yevgeny’s hair.

“Morning,” Mickey said and handed her a cup of coffee.

She accepted it and took a sip, “No sexy redhead today?”

Mickey grimaced, “Fuck no.”

“Iggy told me what happened the other day. When he came back.”

“Daddy yelled at him,” Yevgeny said with a mouthful of cereal.

“I heard,” Sandy said to Yevgeny, and then looked to Mickey, “This is why your dad can’t keep friends.”

Mickey scoffed, “That guy wasn’t my friend. Why would I want some pompous Northside prick as my friend?”

“You liked him enough to let him spend the night, instead of kicking him out like you do with the rest of the guys you bang.”

“Did Iggy tell you what he did?”

“He said you were being your usual asshole self and wouldn’t let him come in to look for something he left here,” Sandy shrugged.

“Iggy needs to keep his fucking mouth shut, and he needs to stop eating all the goddamn eggs.”

“I’m sure whatever the guy did it probably didn’t warrant you to threaten to pull your gun out on him.”

“He’s a liar,” Mickey said curtly, “and I don’t fuck with liars.”

“Wow,” Sandy said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him, “want to be more specific?”

He didn’t want to, but Sandy being who she is, wouldn’t let it go. She was just like Mandy, putting her nose in a place where it doesn’t belong. Mickey crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, “Well, first off he lied about having to leave.”

“How do you know that?”

“Really? A family meeting? Y’know for someone who went to private school, you’d think he’d come up with something better than that.”

“What if that was the truth?”

Mickey scoffed, “Did you even see him? He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. He didn’t even give me his number.”

“So what? You hit it and quit it all the time.”

“And I let them know it was a onetime thing. I don’t lie and say I have a family meeting.”

“Even if he did lie, why do you care? It’s not like you two were going to be boyfriend and boyfriend.”

“Because, I was nothing but a novelty to him. A Southside bad boy. When he finally got me and realized that his thug fantasy guy was nothing but a working poor single dad, he fucking left.”

Sandy rubbed the back of her neck, “Look, I get it. If it makes you feel any better, his sister was blowing up his phone. Maybe he really did have a family thing to go to.”

“Then it was a perfect excuse to get out of here then,” he muttered.

“So, that’s it then. You yelled at him, because he hurt your feelings?”

“No, I yelled at him, because he accused Yevgeny of stealing from him,” Mickey looked to his son, who’d finished his food by now. He saw Yevgeny lower his eyes. Mickey turned back to Sandy, “And I didn’t even yell. I just told him to fuck off, and then his shithead brother tried to come at me, calling Yev a liar when he said he didn’t take it. So, I told Iggy to grab my gun.”

Sandy just nodded.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sandy said in a tone that meant she definitely had something to say.

“Fuck off, Sandy,” Mickey said and then turned around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Why are you up this early anyway? You got an early shift or something?”

Sandy shook her head with a frown, “I’ve been up since five.”

The way she said it caused alarm bells to go off in Mickey’s head. He put his cup down and stared at his cousin, “What happened?” Mickey questioned, but he already knew the answer.

“Mandy had another nightmare.”

“Yevgeny, go get ready for camp,” Mickey said, and then waited for his son to get up from the table. He waited until he heard his bedroom door shut to speak again, “She ok?”

“Yeah, she is now. She started hyperventilating in her sleep, crying, and she scratched the shit out of her legs. I got her cleaned up, but it took a while to get her to calm back down. She’s sleeping now. I’ll keep an eye on her until she wakes up.”

“Ok, thanks,” he mumbled, hands shaking a bit. He picked his cup back up, only to have it slip out of his hands and onto the floor. He jumped back, “Fuck!”

“Hey, calm down,” Sandy said gently, “I’ll clean it up.”

Mickey pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He pulled one out and lit it up as he watched Sandy clean up his spilt coffee. He silently thanked the God he doesn’t believe in, that Sandy was back in their lives. She came to live with them after Mickey got out of prison, and she stayed with Mandy in her room ever since Mandy started having nightmares.

Mandy’s nightmares were something Mickey blamed himself for. He knew he wasn’t the cause directly but being in prison made it difficult to protect his family. He couldn’t be there for them.

“Stop it,” Sandy said suddenly.

“Stop what?”

“Blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault. You know whose fucking fault it is.”

Mickey did. Although, Mickey bore part of the blame on himself, he knew the real threat. He knew the reason to Mandy’s nightmares, and to his own as well. It was their father. Their father did this to them, to all of them. Mickey hated his guts. The old fucker was held up in prison and he was still making their lives hell.

Sandy dumped the glass into the trash can, “How long has it been, four months since the last one? That’s the longest she’s gone without having one of them. She’s improving. We should be happy about that.”

“She shouldn’t fucking be having them at all.”

Sandy nodded her head in agreement, “How about you? Have you had any nightmares recently?”

Mickey took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray, “Yeah.”

“Still can’t remember them?”

Mickey shook his head. He never remembered his nightmares, not when they were about his father. He’d just wake up in the middle of the night clawing at himself, sweating like he’d just ran a marathon. When he’d try to remember what he dreamt, his mind would go blank, and eventually he’d give up. Then he’d try not to cry himself back to sleep.

“Is aunt Mandy going to be ok?” said a small voice.

Mickey and Sandy turned to see Yevgeny standing there. He looked like he was about to cry.

“Yeah, she’s going to be ok. Right, Mick?” Sandy said.

“Yeah,” Mickey said, his voice soft. He looked at his son, really looked at him. He could see the fear in his eyes. Not only the fear for his aunt, but fears that a little kid shouldn’t have to worry about, like food, or electricity, or getting jumped on his way to school, or if his grandfather was coming back. Living here, in the ghetto made you tough, but it also made you very afraid. Mickey knew that fear, he could see it in his son’s eyes, and his son could see it in his as well. It was like looking in a fucked-up mirror. And, in that moment, Mickey wished he could do more. Fuck, he wished he could do so much more, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t good enough. He just wasn’t enough.

Mickey gave his son a weak smile, but Yevgeny was still frowning. Something else was bothering him, Mickey knew, “That the only thing making you upset? Your aunt?”

Yevgeny shook his head slowly.

Mickey sighed, “Is this about that guy saying you stole his knife?”

Yevgeny didn’t say anything, but he didn’t shake his head either.

“Fuck,” Mickey muttered to himself, and then he walked up to Yevgeny. He knelt down so that he was eye level with his son, “Yev, look at me.”

Yevgeny kept his eyes on the floor.

“Yevgeny, look at me,” he said a little more firmly.

Yevgeny slowly looked up to reveal the tears silently falling down his face.

Mickey put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “Look, there are going to be people in your life, people who don’t even know you. They’re going to look down on you, because of who your family is, and where you’re from. They’ll blame you for shit you didn’t even do, and judge you without even getting to know you, all because you come from the Southside and your last name is Milkovich. It isn’t fair, but that’s just how the world works for us. You’re a good kid, Yev, and fuck _anyone_ , especially some smug Northside asshole, who tells you differently. People are going to tear you down, and they’ll want to watch you suffer, watch you cry. Don’t give them that satisfaction. You got that?”

Yevgeny nodded.

“Ok,” Mickey said, kissing the top of Yevgeny’s head. He stood up, “Let’s get you to camp, yeah? Don’t want to be late on your first day.”

Yevgeny nodded, and then slipped his shoes on. He gave Sandy a hug before leaving out the front door.

Mickey pulled his wallet out and handed Sandy a fifty, “Here, buy some groceries. Get two boxes of those blueberry Poptarts. The primo shit, not any of those off-brand Poptarts.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t let fuck head over there eat any of them,” Mickey said, motioning to Iggy, “They’re for Yev.”

“Ok,” she said, putting the money in her pocket. She waited until Mickey was almost out the door to say, “Hey, Mick.”

Mickey stopped, his hand on the door.

“You’re a good dad. I just wanted you to know that.”

Mickey felt a pang in his chest. He cleared his throat, “Thanks. Call me if something else happens with Mandy.”

“I will,” she said as Mickey closed the door behind him.

Mickey didn’t care if he ever saw Ian again. “Not like other people my ass,” Mickey grumbled to himself in the truck after he dropped Yevgeny off. Seriously, fuck him. He made his son cry, and he made Mickey believe he was actually different. That’s the last time he’d ever fuck anyone from the Northside.

When Mickey arrived at work, he was almost fifteen minutes late. He walked into the office to clock in, and one of his bosses, Cami, was sitting behind the desk. She looked very pregnant, and very annoyed.

“You’re late,” she said, not looking up from her paperwork.

“Sorry,” Mickey said as he punched in his timecard, “I had to drop Yev off at summer camp. The head counselor, or whatever the fuck he was wouldn’t let me leave. Kept asking me a bunch of stupid fucking questions. He was one of those hippie types. He even had a ponytail.”

“Yikes,” Cami said, and looked up from her work, “Did you tell him you had to get to a _real_ job?”

Mickey laughed, “No, but I wouldn’t mind making what he makes. I assume it’s a lot, because I’m paying out the ass for that place, and Yev’s only going every other week.”

“I’m so glad I have a good five years before I have to deal with some ‘save the children’ type counselor, or teacher bullshit.”

“The guy said he wanted to read my chakras. I don’t even know what that is. I almost beat the shit out of him.”

Cami laughed, placing a hand on her stomach, “Don’t make me laugh, I might pee my pants. Junior’s been pushing on my bladder all morning.”

Mickey shrugged, “It’s Brad’s chair. What’s he going to do, get mad at you? You’re the one who has to shit the kid out.”

“Always as sensitive as ever, Mickey.”

“Where is Brad anyway? I didn’t see him when I walked in the garage.”

“He’s showing the new guy around.”

Mickey raised his brow, “I didn’t know you guys were looking for new hires.”

“We’re not, this guy works for free.”

“What fucking idiot would work here for free?”

“He’s an intern. Some college kid, who needs a place to work for the summer. One of Brad’s old sobriety buddies hooked us up with him, and Brad’s supposed to be his sponsor.”

“You really going to let some college kid work on bikes?”

“Fuck no. He’s going to sweep up and file shit. Maybe change oil, y’know? He’ll be doing all the stuff I won’t be able to do when I give birth in a few weeks. Best part is, we don’t have to pay him, and you guys don’t have to get stuck doing paperwork.”

“Smart,” Mickey said as he left Brad and Cami’s office.

He walked into the garage to see Brad talking to what Mickey guessed was the new guy. However, as Mickey got closer, he started to feel a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, because he knew that guy. When it finally hit him that the guy was Ian’s asshole college brother, Brad turned around to acknowledge Mickey.

“Lip, this is Mickey. He’s one of my employees.”

Lip seemed to recognize him right away. He glared as Mickey walked towards him, “Fuck, are you kidding me? _You_ work here?”

“Well, it’s not like seeing your ass has been the highlight of my day either, sunshine.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“No thanks, your brother already did it for me.”

Lip looked like he was about to rip Mickey’s head off.

Mickey stood his ground, because he would like to see him try.

Brad glanced nervously between the both of them, “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you two have already met.”

“Unfortunately,” Lip muttered, still glowering at Mickey like he was going to throttle him.

“Guys, c’mon. Please don’t do this now,” Brad whined, “Cami doesn’t need any more stress on her. I don’t want a fight breaking out, and I can’t have one or both of you getting arrested.”

“No promises,” Mickey said.

“Mickey, don’t start shit, man. I don’t want to have to call your parole officer.”

“Don’t need to. I’ve been off parole for five months now, fuck you very much.”

Brad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just try not to kill each other, please.”

“Whatever,” Mickey grunted, “Just keep this prick as far away from me as possible.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“What the fuck, Brad?! Cami said he was going to be doing paperwork and shit like that.”

Brad rubbed the back of his neck, “Turns out he’s good with bikes.”

“Auto mechanics club,” Lip grinned arrogantly, “Gotta have a hobby, right?”

“He can help out in the garage and file paperwork. I guess he’s been working on cars and bikes since he was sixteen. He’s crazy smart too, like Stephen Hawkins smart, and-” Brad stopped when he saw the murderous glare on Mickey’s face, “I’m going to assume this information doesn’t help the situation.”

“Wow, genius, two for fucking two. You’re on a roll,” Mickey deadpanned, while Brad rolled his eyes.

Lip sneered, “Wow, that how you treat everyone, or just the people who sign your paychecks?”

“You shut the fuck up.”

Brad held his hands up and backed away, “I’m just going to let you two work this out on you own.”

Lip looked worried, “What, you’re just going to leave me here with him?”

Brad was already halfway to his office, “Settle whatever this it out amongst yourselves, and then get to work. Mickey will show you the ropes.

“I ain’t showing him shit,” Mickey said, but Brad ignored him and kept walking, “You can’t just make us talk it out and expect us to be friends! This isn’t the Breakfast Club! Brad, don’t shut the fucking do-”

Brad shut the door to his office behind him.

“Fuck,” Mickey muttered to himself.

Lip groaned, “Look, it’s pretty obvious we don’t like each other.”

Mickey raised his brow, “No shit, really? You pick up those sharp observational skills at college?”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. Just show me what to do and I’ll do it. The sooner you train me on how things run around here, the sooner we can both go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist. I’m only here for the summer anyway.”

“Fucking fine by me.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Lip added, “Stay the fuck away from my brother. He doesn’t need people like you fucking his life up.”

Mickey tried not to get hung up on the ‘people like you’ comment. He shrugged, “No problem. The less I see of you Northside fucks the better.”

The day went by agonizingly slow. Lip had something to say about everything. He kept trying to one up Mickey every chance he got. Mickey didn’t know how he made it through the shift. He definitely didn’t know how he was going to make it through the summer. When he complained to Brad about Lip being the biggest douchebag alive, the other man just laughed.

“How does it feel to work with yourself?”

Mickey would have decked him if he didn’t need this job.

When he finally left work, Mickey headed for the Alibi. Yevgeny had been picked up by Kev and V after camp, which Mickey was very thankful for.

When he stepped into the bar, he saw Yevgeny sitting with Kev and V’s daughters, Amy and Gemma. They were all eating McDonalds.

Yevgeny looked up and smiled at his dad.

Mickey smiled back, and then made his way to the bar, “I need a fucking drink,” he grumbled as he took a seat.

Kev handed him a beer, “Rough day at work?”

“That’s a fucking understatement.”

“Oh yeah, because what you do is so hard,” Tommy quips.

“I swear to god, Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll break every bone in your fucking face,” Mickey snapped.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Kermit.

“Fucking Northside assholes thinking they’re better than everybody else. I’m sick of it. They should all just stay over there and leave us the fuck alone.”

Kev shared a confused look with Tommy and Kermit as V stepped out from the back room.

V looked at Mickey who was seething, and then looked to Kev, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Something about Northside assholes.”

“Oh,” V said, and then turned to Mickey, “This wouldn’t be about a certain redhead you went home with Friday, would it?”

Mickey nodded, chugging the rest of his beer and then slammed the glass down, “Not just him, but his fucking brother.”

“The one who came in with him the first time he was here?”

“Brad hired him as an intern. Now, I have to work with the insufferable prick for the entire summer.”

“And what about the other one?”

“What about him?” Mickey snapped.

“What happened with him?”

Mickey kept his eyes down, not looking V in the face, “What does it matter?”

“Well, you seem pretty upset. Tell me about it. Was the sex bad?”

Mickey looked up at V. He hated when she did this, act like a mom to him. He didn’t need a fucking mother, and he wanted to tell her to fuck off and mind her own business. However, the earnest look in V’s eyes made Mickey feel compelled to spill his guts out to her. He didn’t know why. “No, the sex was amazing.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Mickey sighed, “I let him stay the night, and then the next morning he just freaked out and left.”

“Freaked out how?”

“I don’t know. He came into the kitchen, and it was like the more time he spent talking to my family, the more he looked like he wanted to bolt and never come back.”

“Makes sense,” Kev said, “I’d run too if I was stuck in a house full of Milkoviches.”

V rolled her eyes, “Maybe he was nervous. Did he know you lived with like seven other people?”

“No, but I didn’t think he’d mind. Dude said he lived with his siblings. I thought he’d get it,” Mickey shrugged, “Doesn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t stand being around them. He fucking lied about having to go to a family meeting or whatever, so he wouldn’t have to spend another minute in my house. If he didn’t feel comfortable that’s fine, but then he could have just told me that. I don’t want to waste my time with a guy who lies.”

“How do you know he lied?”

“I could tell he was lying. I just knew.”

V raised her eyebrow, “So, is that what you know you know, or what you think you know?”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Do you have proof that he lied, or do you just hope that’s what it was so you can make up an excuse to not see him again? Because, that’s what you always do, you mess it up for yourself. You cut people off before they get too close.”

“Fuck you. You don’t know me.”

“I know that you come here almost every weekend to pick up guys. I know that you rarely ever take them home with you, and when you do, I know you’re definitely not letting them spend the night. I know the first time that boy was here you were looking at him like he was the only person in the room, and when he left you didn’t hook up with anybody that night. I know that when he came back, you and him had a genuine connection. When you were playing pool, you don’t think I was watching you two?”

Mickey’s face started to heat up. He cleared his throat, "Whatever, I know what I know. Besides, even if he was telling the truth it wouldn’t fucking matter, because he came back later and accused Yev of stealing from him. So, fuck him.”

V’s eyes widened at that, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, did he?”

Mickey glared at her, “No, he didn’t. Do you really think my son would steal from someone?”

“Yes,” Kev, V, Kermit, and Tommy all said in unison.

“What? Why?”

Tommy scoffed, “Other than the fact he’s your kid?”

“Kids will pick up anything that’s shiny,” Kermit said.

“Not Yev, he doesn’t do that. He knows better.”

“Mickey, kids will mess up. Even if they know better,” V said, “I’ve caught Amy and Gemma taking things like candy and toys from the store. The worst thing to do is to sweep it under the rug.”

“Uh, Mick,” Kev said, “I’m just going to take a wild guess, but was it a knife?”

Mickey was shocked, “How the fuck did you know that? You psychic or something?”

“No, but I have eyes,” Kev said, and pointed to the booth with Yevgeny, Amy, and Gemma.

Yevgeny had the silver knife in his hand, and he was opening and closing it, showing it off to the girls.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Mickey muttered under his breath. “Yevgeny!” he called out, causing the young boy to jump and snap the knife shut. He quickly put it in his pocket.

“Hey, hey! Don’t pull that shit with me, I already saw you fucking with it. Now, come here.”

Yevgeny looked down at his hands, not moving from his spot.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me? I said come here,” Mickey said again and got no response, “Alright, you want me to come over there? You won’t like me when I do.”

Yevgeny let out an irritated groan, and then got up, dragging his feet. When he finally made it over to Mickey, he still wouldn’t look at him.

“Give me the knife.”

“I don’t have a-”

“Yevgeny, give me the knife,” he said, in his best authoritative parent voice.

Yevgeny reluctantly pulled it out of his pocket. He handed it to Mickey.

Mickey briefly observed the knife. It was a switchblade. Mickey opened it up, and it came out fast. The blade was sharp, very sharp. Mickey panicked for a moment at the thought of his son having this in his pocket all day. However, his worry quickly turned into anger, because he realized that Yevgeny lied to him, and he did steal Ian’s knife. Mickey quickly understood that Yevgeny wasn’t sad this morning because Ian accused him, but because he was feeling guilty for what he did. Then his anger turned into embarrassment, because he told Ian off when he should have just let him look for his shit, and then he got angry again because maybe V was right.

Mickey sighed and then set the knife down on the bar, “We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

“Why? It’s not like I went to jail for it or anything,” Yevgeny muttered.

Mickey’s head snapped up in surprise, and Yevgeny looked as if he were surprised he said that as well. “Go wait in the truck, now,” Mickey said through gritted teeth.

Yevgeny turned on his heel and stomped out of the bar.

When the doors shut, Mickey put his head in his hands. He was so fucking tired, and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. It had been a shit day, but nothing that had happened to him so far could have compared to what his son just said to him. _‘It’s not like I went to jail for it,’_ played over and over in Mickey’s mind.

It always struck a chord with him when people brought up his prison sentence, because being in prison caused him to be absent for the first four years of his son’s life. He just never thought his son would use that against him.

“Let me see that,” Kev said, and he picked the knife up, “Shit, it’s heavy. You think this is real silver?”

“Whatever it is, you have to give it back,” V said to Mickey.

Mickey’s head shot up, “No fucking way.”

“Oh, so what? You’re just going to keep it?”

“Now, hold on a minute, V,” Kev said, “He definitely shouldn’t give it back. He should sell it.”

Mickey considered that. It was a good idea. If he sold it, he wouldn’t have to face Ian again, and he could catch up on bills. It seemed like a win win situation.

“Absolutely not,” V crossed her arms at her husband, “What kind of example is that setting for the kids, Kevin?”

“At least if I sell it, I’ll have rent on time this month.”

Kev studied the knife further, “Did he tell you who gave him the knife?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “No, all he said was that it’s sentimental. Why?”

“Because, look what’s engraved on it,” Kev said, handing it back to Mickey.

Mickey observed the engraved lettering on the back of the knife. It read: _To Ian. Love, Mom._ Mickey read the writing over and over again.

“Well, shit,” Mickey grumbled, and then pulled out some money to pay for his drink.

When Mickey got out to the truck, Yevgeny was sulking. He wouldn’t talk to Mickey on the way home, and when they got to the house, Yevgeny got out and slammed the door.

“Hey!” Mickey called out as Yevgeny ran up the front steps. Mickey was right behind him, trying to get his son to listen. He almost ripped the door off when he followed Yevgeny into the house.

“Hey, Mick,” Mandy said from the couch, “How was wo-”

“Don’t walk away from me! Yevgeny, turn around and look at me,” Mickey grabbed Yevgeny by the wrist.

Yevgeny twisted and tried to pull away. Mickey wasn’t holding on tightly by any means at all, but Yevgeny was only six and didn’t have a lot of upper body strength, “Let go,” he growled.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”

“No!” his son shouted, starting to throw a tantrum.

“No what? No you don’t want to tell me?”

“No!”

“Then what is it, Yevgeny?!”

“No!”

“Yev, stop fucking around!”

“What is going on?” Mandy was off the couch now and standing next to her brother.

“You know that guy I let stay the night Friday?”

“What about him?”

“He came back and asked if he’d left his knife lying around somewhere, and Yevgeny took it.”

“So?”

“So?” Mickey turned to his sister, “So, I told him to fuck off, because my son doesn’t steal. Apparently, I was wrong, and I made myself look like an asshole for nothing.”

Mandy crossed her arms, “You always look like an asshole.”

“And, you should have heard what he fucking said to me when I picked him up at the Alibi.”

“Let me go!” Yevgeny was still trying to pull away from Mickey.

Mickey turned to his son, “Stop it, Yevgeny. Do you know how much trouble you’re in? Not only did you lie to me, but you carried around a switch blade with you at camp today. Did you know it’s fucking illegal to carry one without ID?”

“I don’t care!” Yevgeny cried out in frustration.

“You don’t care? What if someone caught you with it? What if you got cut, or you cut someone else? They’d call that shit in so fast! Do you want DCFS down here, Yev?!”

“No!” Yevgeny had tears streaming down his face.

“No? Because that’s what woulda’ happened. Do you want to get taken from me and your mom? Do you want to end up in foster care?”

“Shit, Mickey, stop it! You’re scaring him!”

Mickey stopped for a moment to look at his sister, and suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot out through his hand, “Fuck,” he yelped, letting go of Yevgeny to look at his hand. There were tiny teeth marks right above his wrist. Yevgeny had bit him.

Mickey looked up just in time to see Yevgeny run into their shared room, and slam and lock the door. He looked back at Mandy who had her hand over her mouth in surprise. Oh, he was livid now. He turned towards the bedroom ready to break down the door, when he felt Mandy’s hand on his arm.

“Mickey, calm down. He’s just a kid.”

“He fucking bit me, Mandy!”

“You fucking deserved it, dick head! Maybe if you kept your cool, he wouldn’t have felt the need to!”

Mickey knew Mandy was right. He felt his anger deflate immediately. He looked at his hand and let out a long sigh. He felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes, but he refused to let them fall, “Fuck, I’m just like dad.”

Mandy punched Mickey in the arm.

“Ow, Mandy! The fuck?”

“Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that, Mickey,” Mandy threatened, “You are not like him. You were just upset. Yev understands that. Just go talk to him. I’m going out for a smoke,” she said and walked out the front door.

Mickey nodded and then made his way to the bedroom. He felt an overwhelming amount of shame built up inside him. He knocked on the door, “Hey, can I come in?”

There was no answer. Mickey put his ear up to the door and listened. He could hear Yevgeny crying softly on the other side. He sat down next to the door with his back up against the wall. The tears that had threated to spill out minutes before started welling up in Mickey’s eyes. He angrily wiped away his tears. He hated crying.

A few minutes passed when Mickey heard his son’s crying subside. He tried to find the right words to say but was coming up short. “Look, I’m sorry,” he finally said, “Obviously, something’s going on with you. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you like I did.”

There was still no answer.

“I’m not only mad at you,” Mickey continued, “Truth is, I had a shitty day at work. This guy started working at the garage, and he’s this really smart college bigshot, and I don’t know. I guess I feel intimidated by him,” Mickey gave a humorless laugh when he admitted this, “Yeah, he makes me feel pretty dumb.”

The door then opened to reveal Yevgeny. His eyes were red from crying, “Really?” he sniffed.

“Yeah,” Mickey said, and he held his arms out to let Yevgeny crawl into his lap. He gently pet his son’s head as Yevgeny laid on Mickey’s chest.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day at work.”

“Not your fault.”

“I think you’re smart. You’re the smartest daddy I know,” Yevgeny said.

Mickey felt pride swell in his chest, “Thanks,” he kissed the top of Yevgeny’s head.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Are DCFS really going to come and take me away?”

“No,” Mickey stated firmly and held tighter on to Yevgeny, “I’m so sorry I said that to you.”

“Seth Thompson got taken away last week.”

Mickey had forgotten that. One of Yevgeny’s friends who lived across the street was taken away by child services after the police found his mother dead in the bathtub from a heroin overdose last Wednesday.

“I Know. I shouldn’t have said that to you. It just freaked me out. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why’d you take the knife anyway, Yev?”

“Cus’ I wanted it,” Yevgeny mumbled into his father’s chest.

Mickey shook his head, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Yevgeny mumbled something unintelligible into Mickey’s shirt.

“What’s that mumbles?”

Yevgeny lifted his head and started crying again, “I said Eric Fergusson stole my boxcutter! The one I got from your toolbox! And- and I tried to g-get it back, but Eric’s big brother pushed me to the ground, and stepped on it in front of me, and n-now it’s broken! And I saw the knife on the couch, and I didn’t know it belonged to that g-guy until after he left, but he came back and I was s-scared to tell you I had it! And then you yelled at h-him and I felt really bad, so I didn’t tell you!” he spoke rapidly without taking a breath.

“Woah, Yev, take a breath. What are you saying? Someone took your what?”

“My boxcutter! You gave it to me!”

Mickey then remembered. Yevgeny had found an old boxcutter in Mickey’s toolbox. The blade was dull and didn’t cut for shit. Mickey let Yevgeny keep it as long as he didn’t play with it irresponsibly.

“That old piece of shit? Yev, it doesn’t even cut. Why do you care if someone took it?”

“Because it was mine! I don’t have my own room. I don’t have my own bed. All my clothes and toys are used. That was mine!”

Mickey didn’t point out that the boxcutter was the most used thing he had in his toolbox, but he understood what Yevgeny meant.

“I liked the knife. I thought that since that guy was rich, he wouldn’t notice it was missing, but then I saw that his mommy gave it to him,” Yevgeny said in a small voice, “That’s why I felt so sad this morning.”

Mickey nodded, understanding Yevgeny’s frustrations. He knew his son was getting around the age where he would notice that a lot of people have more stuff than they do. Why does his classmates get their own room, and clothes from the mall, and new toys, and more than two Christmas presents under the tree each year? Yevgeny slept with Mickey in his bed when he stayed over, and on the couch at his mom’s since the bed wasn’t big enough to fit him, Svetlana, and Svet’s boyfriend. All of his clothes and toys were hand-me-downs from cousins. Mickey sighed, feeling defeated. He just wanted so much more for his son.

“I had Sandy buy blueberry Poptarts this morning. Name brand too,” Mickey said, hoping it would put his son in a better mood.

Yevgeny wiped his eyes, “Really?”

Mickey nodded.

“Can I have some?”

“Go take your bath first, and then you can.”

“Ok,” Yevgeny smiled, getting off his father’s lap. He started to go back into Mickey’s room but then turned around, “Dad?”

“Yeah, Yev?”

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier, and for biting you, and for lying and stealing,” he said, “I’ll try to be better.”

Mickey smiled and held his arms out for Yevgeny to give him a hug, “It’s ok. I’m gonna try to be better too.”

When Yevgeny left, Mickey got up off the floor and went to join his sister outside.

Mickey stepped out into the sweet summer air. The neighborhood was starting to wind down as the sun was starting to set. He sat next to Mandy, and he pulled out his cigarettes, taking one out to light up. Him and his sister sat in silence, watching the cars go by. He looked down and saw the scratch marks on his Mandy’s legs, “Heard you had another nightmare,” he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Mandy didn’t look to Mickey, but stared straight ahead, “Yeah.”

“You gonna be ok?”

“Aren’t I always?” She finally turned to Mickey, “Do you still have them?”

Mickey nodded, “Still can’t remember any of them.”

“You’re lucky. Wish I couldn’t”

Mickey winced, causing Mandy to change the subject.

“What happened with Yev?”

“Some little shit took something from him. He kinda had a meltdown. We talked it out, he’s fine.”

“He give you back Northside’s knife?”

Mickey fished the switchblade out of his pocket. He showed it to Mandy.

“Shit,” Mandy said, taking the knife in her hand, “this is nice,” she looked at the engraving on the back, “Aw, that’s sweet. You gonna give it back?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know how much money we can get from this?”

Mandy’s face twisted in disgust, “His mother gave him that.”

“Well, she can fucking buy him another one. I could use the money from this and buy Yev something real nice. Maybe a bike, or something like that.”

“Yeah and when you give it to him you can explain how you got the money to pay for it.”

“Fuck you. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“You know what I think?”

“I don’t care.”

“I think,” Mandy continued, completely ignoring Mickey, “that you’re afraid. You’re afraid to face that guy again and tell him you were wrong.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re afraid,” Mandy laughed, “You’re afraid that if you go back and give it to him, he’d tell you off. Call you some Southside piece of shit and say he never wants to see you again. Even worse, he might forgive you, and he’d try to woo you, and you’d totally fall for him because under your fake bad boy bullshit, I know you’re a romantic at heart. Either way you’re fucked, so you decide just to remove yourself completely.”

“Where is this coming from? Aren’t you the same girl that got dumped by that Northside guy when all that shit with dad started going down? I’m still pissed you won’t tell me his name, so I can go beat the shit out of him for you.”

Mandy smiled, “You’ll never know his name. Besides, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. You need to let go of your fears, Mickey. Your fear of being with someone, your fear of dad. Shit, he already knows you take it up the ass. What more is there to be scared of?”

“They’ll let him out eventually,” Mickey confessed, “They always do. And, I can’t be here when he gets back.”

“You’re allowed to like people, Mickey. You’re allowed to date. Stop standing in the way of your own happiness.”

Mickey glared at her but didn’t say anything.

Mandy handed the knife back to him. She snuffed out her cigarette, “You’re not going to sell the knife. No, you’ll find some way to get it back to him without confronting him.”

Mickey watched her walk up the stairs, “How do you know that?”

“Because you’re a fucking pussy,” she said, and then went inside.

Mickey sat on the steps alone. He eventually put the cigarette out, and then started studying the knife. He ran his thumb over the engraving. He thought about seeing Ian for the first time. He thought about Ian coming back, and them playing pool. He thought about the mind-blowing sex. He thought about the way Ian’s eyes looked when Mickey threatened him off his property.

Mickey gripped the knife in his hands. He was totally fucked.


	4. You Got My Knife?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo chapter four! Just a warning there is a murder in this chapter, but it doesn't go that into detail. Also, Ian Gallagher is a simp, I don't make the rules. As always, thank you for your wonderful comments, and the kudos. Thanks for reading!

It had taken a few days for Mickey to even drum up the courage to bring it up to Lip.

Mickey had tried to bring it up before, but then he’d chicken out at the last minute. He had a hard time admitting he was wrong. Eventually, Mickey decided not to be upfront at first. He wanted to ease into it, which resulted in him acting at least a little decent towards Lip.

On Thursday, Mickey and Lip had been assigned to work on a bike together. They worked in silence, until Mickey couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So, how’s your brother?”

Lip looked up from what he was doing to scowl at Mickey.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I didn’t say that to piss you off. I’m genuinely asking.”

“Well,” Lip said as he put his wrench down, “He’s doing fine. Better, now that he basically hates you. I don’t know what you did, but when I mentioned to him I was working with you, he just stormed off into the other room.”

Mickey felt something twist in his gut. It was sadness and regret. He refused to let it show, however, as he rolled his eyes again, “You gonna try to beat me up now, for hurting your brother’s sensitive feelings?”

Lip shrugged, “Nah, not yet anyway. You saved me a lot of trouble in having to convince him you’re a piece of shit, but I’m sure you’ll do something else that will require me to beat you up.”

Mickey flipped him off. They went back to working in silence for a couple of minutes until Mickey said, “He ever find his knife?”

Lip knitted his brows together, “How do you know about-”

“He came by my house last Saturday, him and his brother. He said it was sentimental, or some shit like that.”

“Did you find it?”

Mickey was surprised to hear the soft desperation in Lip’s voice. He almost reached in his pocket to give it to him, but Mandy’s words kept playing through his mind. “No,” he said finally.

“Shit,” Lip muttered, “He’s been searching for that fucking thing nonstop for days. He thinks Frank might have taken it and pawned it off. Used the money to settle some debts.”

“Frank’s your dad, right?”

Lip stared at him, realizing he’d just revealed some personal family information to Mickey, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Why’s that knife so important to him anyway?” Mickey questioned, like he didn’t already know.

Lip didn’t say anything at first. He eyed Mickey up and down, as if he were trying to figure out why the other boy gave a shit. Lip stood up and crossed his arms, “Why do you care?”

Mickey shrugged, “I don’t. Just curious.”

Lip stayed silent again for a few moments before saying, “Our mom gave it to him.”

Mickey knew that was coming, but he wanted to find out more. Maybe if the knife was just a birthday present or a graduation gift, something that could easily be replaced, Mickey wouldn’t feel so bad when he sold it. Then he could go straight up to his sister and tell her to eat shit, because Mickey Milkovich wasn’t anybody’s bitch. Why the fuck should he care if Ian ever gets his knife back? He was a rich Northside prick. He could probably buy ten of those knives if he wanted to. Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Seems like an easy fix. Just get your mom to buy him another one.”

Lip laughed a little, which made Mickey uncomfortable considering he didn’t see the humor in what he just said. Lip grabbed a rag off the bike they were fixing to wipe his hands off, “That would be a little difficult, since she’s been dead for almost a year.”

Mickey visibly tensed, he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t expecting that. An awkward silence fell between them. Mickey cleared his throat, “I’m sorry,” he said, not really knowing what else to say.

Lip shook his head and tossed the rag back down, “Don’t be,” he muttered, and then moved past Mickey to get into the toolbox, “Pretty sure Ian’s the only one who fucking misses her.”

Mickey didn’t talk to Lip for the rest of their shift. His words played over and over in Mickey’s head like it was on a loop. The callous way Lip talked about their mother made it seem like Ian shouldn’t care that the knife was gone. His brother sure didn’t seem to. However, when Ian had stopped by to look for it, he seemed desperate to go in and look around. Whatever it was, it made it a lot fucking harder to sell it.

After his shift was over, Mickey went to the Alibi. Mandy had picked Yevgeny up from camp, so Mickey had some time to kill before he went home to put his son to bed.

When he sat down at the bar, he told Kev and V, and by extent, (because they were nosy fuckers,) Tommy and Kermit, about his conversation with Lip.

“Well, you definitely can’t sell it now,” V said.

Mickey had come to that conclusion as well. He was a dick, but he wasn’t heartless.

“Now, hold on a minute, V,” Kev said, “I think this means the knife just upped itself in value.”

Tommy quirked an eyebrow, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“She’s dead right? So, the knife is haunted.”

Now, everyone was looking at Kev like he lost his mind.

V put her hands on her hips, “That knife is not haunted. What is the matter with you?”

Kev rolled his eyes, “It doesn’t have to actually be haunted for us to say it is.”

“He’s gone insane,” Tommy shook his head sadly, “I think it’s time to take him out back and shoot him, V.”

“Will you assholes listen to me? What I’m trying to say is that you’ll get a lot more money from that thing if you say it’s haunted. People love to buy haunted shit. Ever seen the Exorcist? Amityville Horror? Say a mysterious rich lady died before she could pass the knife on to her son, and now her soul is trapped in the knife. Boom, you’ve raised the price by at least five hundred dollars.”

V shook her head in disappointment, “No, Kevin, he’s giving it back. We’re not going to scam this kid out of a gift he’d gotten from his dead mother.”

“Why the hell do you care anyway?” Mickey questioned.

“Simple,” Kev said, “I help you sell it, we split the profits fifty-fifty, and then I get a new tv for the bar.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” said Kermit.

“Even if I were going to sell it, what makes you think I’m letting you see any of the money I make off of it?”

“Because that would be the honorable thing to do,” Kev said, as if that were obvious.

V looked at Kev like he grew a second head, “Honorable? You were just talking about selling something someone got from their dead mother.”

Kev shrugged, “Money is money, V. He has it, and we don’t. Mickey found it-”

“After his son took it,” V interjected.

“Look, all I’m saying is that when you see an opportunity to get ahead, take it.”

V rolled her eyes. She looked to Mickey, “Don’t listen to this clown. You know what the right thing to do is.”

Mickey nodded and looked down at his hands. He needed to think about it. On one hand, V was right. It wasn’t just some rich guy who left his wallet on the L. Ian left the knife behind, but it was something important to the guy and had sentimental value. On the other hand, he needed cash. Also, Ian already thought his piece of shit dad pawned it. So, If Mickey sold it, there would be no repercussions.

Mickey sighed and threw a couple bucks on the table, “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and then got up to leave. When he got to the door, V called out to him.

“If you decide to sell it that’s fine, but just know that you set an example for your son. He looks up to you. Don’t be angry at him when he does wrong, when you do the same damn thing,” she paused for a moment, as her eyes bore deep into Mickey’s skull, “And don’t be surprised if one day you find yourself in the same situation you found yourself in about six years ago. With you looking at him through a thick piece of glass. Except this time, you’ll be the one on the outside, and he’ll be in there. You’re the parent, and you’re responsible for what he learns from you.”

Mickey visibly gulped, “Whatever,” he said nonchalantly, and then walked out the door.

When he arrived home, Sandy and Mandy were sitting on the couch watching a movie, and Yevgeny was asleep on Sandy’s shoulder.

“He tried to stay up,” she shrugged, “He had a long day at camp.”

Mickey nodded, and he knelt down to gently shake his son awake.

“What?” Yevgeny grumbled.

“Hey, man, did you fall asleep?”

Yevgeny nodded.

“Wanna go sleep in the bed?”

Yevgeny nodded again and held up his arms.

Mickey scooped him up and carried him to their room. He laid Yevgeny down gently and removed his jeans and his socks. When he pulled the covers over his son, Mickey sat down and watched him sleep. He brought his hand up to lightly pet Yevgeny’s head. He could feel a tightening in his chest as he remembered what V said to him.

With a sigh, he finally got up. He walked back out into the living room, where Sandy and Mandy were still watching tv. He looked to them and saw that Mandy’s claw marks on her legs were healing, and then he looked to Sandy and saw the bruises on her arms were clearing up. It had been a few days now since she had that run in with a creep that followed her after work. Mickey then looked down on the floor and saw Iggy passed out near the tv, which Mickey didn’t notice before. He was probably high on meth or something.

Mickey looked around his house. The wallpaper was peeling, the roof was leaking. There were guns out on the table, and cocaine laid out on the counter. Courtesy of his brothers, probably. They were running low on food again, because fifty dollars in groceries didn’t go far with seven people in and out of the house.

Mickey stayed there for a moment until he heard yelling coming from outside. Mickey walked over to the window and looked out. He saw one of his neighbors dragging a man out of the house by his hair, and then threw him to the ground. He then saw his neighbor’s wife run out with tears streaming down her face, trying to stop him and was pushed violently to the ground. Mickey suspected his neighbor just found out his wife was having an affair. He was about to leave and let it pass, when his neighbor pulled his gun out and shot the guy who was pleading for his own life in front of him.

The sound of the gunshot made Sandy and Mandy jump, but Mickey put his hand up, telling them to stay where they were. Not even a few minutes later the police showed up. Someone must have called about the disturbance beforehand. Mickey watched silently as the police arrested his neighbor and covered the body.

Just then Mickey could hear crying coming out from his room. He didn’t know if his son heard the gunshot or had just awoken from a bad dream.

“Daddy,” Yevgeny cried.

Mickey watched on as the flashing blue and red lights illuminated his figure. He could hear his son’s crying getting louder, and he looked back at his sister and cousin to see that Sandy had an arm around Mandy, comforting her. He looked down at his brother, who was oblivious to anything going on. In that moment Mickey made a promise to himself, that he would do everything in his power to make sure his son gets out. That one day Yevgeny wouldn’t be where Mickey was today.

Finally, he shook himself from his daze, and tried to forget that he just saw a man get murdered. He quickly made sure that Mandy and Sandy were alright, and then walked back into his room to comfort his son.

The next morning came around and the streets were calm again. Well, as calm as they could be on the Southside. Mickey didn’t have to be at work until two, so after he and Mandy dropped Yevgeny off at camp, he had his sister make a detour to the local youth shelter.

It had been clear to Mickey last night, that the violence and the crime that inhabited the neighborhood, and even his own house, wasn’t what Mickey was about anymore. He had to set a better example for Yevgeny, and the first thing was giving back the knife.

At first, Mickey intended on giving it over to Lip, but then decided against it. He knew that cocky bastard would pretend he found it, so Ian wouldn’t have any sort of incentive to confront Mickey again. Of course, that left Mickey wondering how the hell he was going to get the knife back to Ian without hand delivering it himself. Then he remembered Ian’s other brother.

When Mandy pulled up to the youth shelter, Mickey stayed put for a few minutes. He remembered that Ian had said his brother was volunteering here, but he didn’t mention what days. What if he wasn’t even here?

“You gonna get out of the car, asshole?” Mandy questioned, bringing Mickey out of deep thought, “Because I kinda need to get going.”

Mickey got out of the truck and then flipped Mandy off as she drove away.

He walked in through the big double doors and was immediately greeted with a flurry of activity. Kids were either moving things around or lounging on their cots. Mickey looked around to see LGBTQ+ friendly posters littered across the walls. He felt something odd wash over him, it was a sense of calm. He felt safe here. It made Mickey feel good, that someone took the time to renovate what was an old run down church that harbored crack addicts, to a shelter that housed runaway youths, or kids kicked out by their parents, because of who they decided to love.

Mickey smiled to himself, and then looked to see a young girl walking towards him.

“Hi,” the girl said with a grin, but Mickey could tell by her body language that she was apprehensive.

“Uh, hey,” he said, not exactly knowing what he was doing to make this kid afraid of him, “I’m lookin’ for a kid, he-”

“If your son is missing, go to the police,” she said quickly, “We don’t know who comes in and out of here.”

Now Mickey understood. He shook his head, “I’m not some homophobic piece of shit dad, looking for his runaway gay son. I’m here to talk to one of your volunteers.”

The girl visibly relaxed, “Oh, ok. Who do you need to talk to?”

“His name is,” Mickey stopped suddenly. He fucking forgot the kid’s name. He knew it started with a c, “Cody? Carson maybe? I don’t know. He’s a teenager, brown hair, green eyes. His brother’s name is Ian, a tall redheaded freckled motherfucker.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Carl Gallagher.”

Carl, that was his name. Also, how was it only now he was learning Ian’s last name? He worked with his brother, but it never really came up, or maybe it did, and Mickey didn’t care enough to pay attention. “Yeah, that’s him. He around?”

The girl nodded, and then stopped another girl who was carrying a stack of fliers, “Hey, go get Carl. There’s someone here that wants to talk to him.” The other girl nodded and walked off.

“So, you know Ian?”

Mickey was caught off guard by the question, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Y’know, he funded this whole place,” she said with a bright smile, “He’s a really nice guy.”

Of course, he fucking did, because the guy was a literal saint, and Mickey was just the asshole who tricked Ian into liking him. As they waited, Mickey noticed that the young girl in front of him was still tense, so he said, “Y’know, I wish there was a place like this when I was growing up. A group of people to tell me it was ok to be myself, and that if I fell, they’d catch me. That definitely would have been an incentive to leave my shithead dad’s house.”

When the girl heard this, she finally relaxed completely, because she realized Mickey was like her. They didn’t know each other, but they knew they had at least one thing in common. It was the kind of thing that harbored a small amount of trust, even if they were strangers. They were part of a community, something bigger than themselves.

“I’m Geneva,” she finally said.

“Mickey,” he said, and then looked behind her to see Carl walking towards them.

When Carl approached them, he seemed to remember Mickey right away, just like Lip did. He had the same reaction of disgust and annoyance, “This guy bothering you, Geneva?”

Geneva shook her head, “Nope, we were just talking,” she turned to walk away, but not before smiling and saying, “Bye, Mickey.”

Mickey gave her a small wave goodbye, and then looked to Carl, who was standing with his arms crossed. Mickey rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, dipshit, I wasn’t doing anything, so you can quit the tough guy act. You know she’s not going to date you though, right? Kinda the wrong place to pick up people of the opposite gender.”

“Geneva’s my friend, it’s called being nice. Heard of it?”

Mickey had to fight the urge to smack Carl upside the head. Instead he just reached into his pocket and tossed him the knife.

Carl caught it, and then looked up at Mickey in surprise, “You found it?”

Mickey rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, my son had it.”

“So, he did steal it?”

“He didn’t maliciously take the damn thing,” Mickey snapped, “Your brother left it at my house, and he found it. He was scared to tell me he kept it. He’s only six years old, so don’t blame him. Fuck, if you’re gonna blame anyone, blame me. I’m the one who waited like four days to give it back.”

Carl considered this, he held tightly on to the knife, “Ok.”

“Thank you.”

Carl raised an eyebrow, “Wait, you work with Lip, right? Why didn’t you just give it to him?”

Mickey sighed, “Because, he hates me. I knew he wouldn’t tell the truth about how he got it back, and I want your brother to know I’m sorry.”

Carl nodded, like that made perfect sense, “Ok, I’ll tell Ian.”

“Thanks. Oh, and tell him not to leave any expensive shit around the Southside. People will sell that shit in a second.”

“Well, I don’t think he meant to leave it there. He was in a hurry, because our dad came back,” Carl rolled his eyes, “Our dad, Frank, throws these stupid welcome back parties for himself, and they’re mandatory. If you don’t go or show up late, he’ll do something petty to get back at us. Frank is like the king of cruel and unusual punishment.”

Mickey felt that revelation hit him like a ton of bricks, because Ian was actually telling the truth. Also, their dad sounded like a fucking asshole. Mickey could feel himself wanting to run away. Instead he kept his cool and refused to show Carl any of the emotional turmoil he was feeling internally, “Sounds fun,” Mickey said and hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets, “Make sure your brother gets that knife.”

Carl studied him for a moment before saying, “Yeah, ok.”

Mickey nodded and turned to leave. He was almost out the door when Carl called out.

“Actually, no.”

Mickey turned, “No?”

Carl jogged up to him, and then thrusted the knife into his hand.

Mickey raised his brow, “The fuck?”

“I’m not doing your dirty work. You want Ian to know your sorry about being an asshole to him, then you give it to him yourself.”

Mickey let out a surprised laugh, “I’m not doing shit. I mean I’ll take the knife if you want, but if I leave here with it, you’re not getting it back.”

“You’re not keeping that knife. You’re going to return it to my brother, and then you’re going to apologize to him for treating him the way you did. It’s up to Ian if he forgives you or not.”

Mickey scratched the corner off his brow, it was tick he had when someone told him something that really pissed him off, “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

“Because, you hurt Ian’s feelings, and he really liked you. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Is that supposed to make me wanna go?”

“How about this then?” Carl said, getting in Mickey’s face, “I’ve been at the top of my class at military school for seven years, and I’m at the top of the list to be admitted into West Point next year. I’ve been trained to disarm and annihilate any threat that I come across. I can clean my gun blindfolded, carry twice my weight, and I know about twenty different places to hide a body. I have the ability to gut you, get rid of you, and be back here in time for lunch, and I won’t lose a bit of sleep over it, because nobody _fucks_ with my brother.”

Mickey pushed him back slightly, “Get the fuck outta my face.” He wasn’t scared of the kid by any means. Growing up with Terry Milkovich taught Mickey that anything that could hurt him paled in comparison to his father. Besides, Mickey knew the kid wouldn’t do any real damage to him. However, he did believe that Carl could hold his own in a fight, and Mickey didn’t want to take a trip to the ER.

“You gonna give the knife back?”

“Well, I need to know where he is first, jarhead.”

Carl told him Ian’s number, and Mickey saved it to his phone. Hopefully after the exchange, Ian would lose his number and never talk to him again. Then he’d work with his brother until the end of summer and he’d forget he ever heard the name Gallagher.

When Mickey left the shelter, he dialed the number. Hopefully, Ian was near by so he could get this over with. The dial tone ringed three times before someone answered.

“Hello?” Ian said warily over the phone. He sounded a little out of breath.

Mickey tried not to focus on why that might be when he said, “Hey, it’s Mickey.”

There was no answer at first, and Mickey had to make sure Ian didn’t hang up. Finally, Ian spoke in a cold voice, “How did you get my number?”

“Your brother Carl gave it to me.”

“Why would he d-”

“I have your knife,” Mickey said, not wanting to mince words.

There was another pause over the phone before Ian said, “Really?”

Mickey tried to ignore the feeling he felt when he heard Ian’s hard, unempathetic voice, crack into something warmer and more hopeful. He coughed in his hand, “Yeah. Is there a place I can meet you, so I can give it back?”

“Yeah, I’m at the gym right now. I’ll send you the address.”

Well, that explained why Ian sounded out of breath when he answered the phone. Mickey didn’t want to admit the relief he felt. He heard his phone ping and then he looked at it. The address was in Sauganash, “Seriously?” he groaned, “I gotta ride up to Forest Glen for your ass?”

“So?”

“So, my sister has my truck. It’s gonna take forever to take a train up there.”

“I’ll be here for a while.”

“Why can’t you just drive to my house?”

“Thought I wasn’t allowed back there,” Ian said, switching back to his harsh tone from earlier.

Mickey guessed he deserved that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “C’mon, man, don’t make me go all the way up to the Northside just to give you your fucking knife back.”

“Well, I guess you don’t have any other option, because I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Well, I don’t want go to Sauganash.”

“That’s not my fucking problem,” Ian snapped, and then hung up the phone.

Mickey stared at the phone in shock, because did Ian really just hang up on him? Also, Ian could have chosen somewhere closer to meet that wasn’t Mickey’s house. He was just being a petty little bitch, and Mickey knew that. It was already eleven and he was pissed off for the day. He had half a mind to chuck that freckled face fuck’s knife into Lake Michigan, but then he thought of Yevgeny, and the promise he made. But he also didn’t want to go to Forest Glen and waste the time off he had before work. “Fuck,” he muttered, and then headed towards the L.

It had taken a while to get to Ian’s gym. Mickey had gotten a text from Ian about ten minutes before he got there, asking where he was. Mickey wanted to call him and yell at him, because he told Ian how long it would take. If Ian was gone by the time Mickey got there, the cops would have to be called, because Mickey would legitimately stab the first person he saw. Luckily, Ian was leaning up against his car when Mickey walked into the parking lot.

“Took you long enough.”

“Well, I had to take a train and a bus to get here, so go fuck yourself.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t smiling, but Mickey could see the glee in his eyes, “Where’s my knife?”

Mickey took it out of his pocket and tossed it to him, “There’s your fucking knife. You’re lucky I don’t shove it in your ear.”

Ian rolled his eyes and caught it with one hand. He let his thumb roll over the handle before he slipped it into his pocket. He crossed his arms, “You know what? You’re not very nice.”

Mickey shrugged, because he knew that, “Ok?”

“Where did you find it?”

Mickey sighed, “My son had it.”

“Guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

Ok that hurt. It hurt Mickey more than it should have. Usually, that would have caused him to freak out, but Mickey couldn’t argue with it, because Ian was right, “Yeah, I guess it doesn't,” he said, and then turned to leave.

It only had taken a few steps for Ian to call out, “Hey, wait!”

Mickey faced him, “What?”

“When I came back for my knife, why’d you act that way towards me? I thought we had a nice night. What did I do that was so wrong?”

Mickey looked at Ian, really looked at him. Mickey then realized what Carl meant when he said he hurt Ian’s feelings, because the guy looked devastated. Mickey shook his head, “Nothing, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why-”

“You said it yourself. I’m not very nice.”

“Oh, cut the shit, Mickey. What’s the real reason?”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it is, but I still want to know.”

“Ok, fine,” Mickey snapped, “I thought you were lying about having to leave that morning.”

Ian looked taken aback, “What? Why would I lie?”

“Because, you were bombarded with my entire fucking family showing up, and then my son came by. I thought you wouldn’t mind, but then you suddenly had to leave claiming you ‘had a family meeting’, which by the way, sounds fake as hell. You didn’t leave your number, or anything. It just,” Mickey looked down at the ground frustrated, “It just seemed like you saw a guy you thought was a cool bad boy, and you were disappointed when you found out I wasn’t. I mean I’m bad, but not like in a James Dean kinda way. I’m a working poor ex-con, who barely makes enough to get by. I’m trying to raise my son without fucking up too much or have the neighborhood we live in fuck him up. Obviously, I’m failing at that too. So, why wouldn’t you want to leave?”

“Mickey,” Ian said in a gentle tone that made Mickey meet his eyes again.

“I was wrong though, wasn’t I? I talked to your brother today. Your dad sounds like a fucking prick.”

“He is,” Ian agreed with a smile, but then it soon turned into a frown, “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“Oh, don’t fucking do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Apologize to me. I already feel like the biggest jackass in the world. I’d rather you punch me in the face.”

“But I am sorry,” Ian insisted, “I didn’t think about how you might have felt given the circumstances. I didn’t even leave you my number.”

“It’s whatever, man, I get it. Look, I’m sorry for how I acted, and I’m sorry that my kid took your knife.”

“It’s ok, I’m just glad I have it back.”

“We good?”

Ian nodded, “We’re good.”

“Good,” Mickey said, and then turned to leave for the bus, “See you around, Gallagher.”

“Wait,” Ian said.

“Yeah?”

Ian looked sheepish now, “Where are you going?”

Mickey looked at him like he was stupid, “Uh, home? I got to get back in time for work.”

Ian shook his head, “Man, you don’t have to do that. I’ll drive you back.”

Mickey gave him a suspicious look, “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean I did kinda make you come out of your way.”

“Out of my way?” Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, “Yeah, I’d say you did.”

Ian laughed, “There’s a catch though.”

“Oh yeah?”

Ian bit his lip, “Let me buy you lunch?”

“Depends on where it is.”

“Well,” Ian said, “We could always stop by the country club. I think I have an extra suit jacket in my car you could wear.”

Mickey stared up at him in horror, “Uh, I-”

Ian busted out laughing, holding his stomach, “I’m just fucking with you.”

Mickey scowled, “You’re hilarious.”

“There’s a taco truck just down the street. You like Mexican?”

“Is that even a fucking question?”

Ian smirked, and then he and Mickey walked to the taco truck side by side. When they got there, both boys ordered two tacos with drinks, and then sat down on the curb to eat. Ian immediately started chowing down. He looked over to Mickey, “The best food is food from trucks,” Ian said with his mouth full.

Mickey agreed and took a big bite out of his taco. Mickey moaned a little, because it _was_ good, and it was the first thing he had to eat all day.

“So, why’d you bring my knife back?” Ian asked after he finished his second taco.

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “What you think I’d keep it?”

“No,” Ian shook his head, “I think you’d sell it.”

Mickey shrugged, “It crossed my mind.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Wanted to set a good example for my kid. Also, I saw it was a gift from your mom. Your brother told me she died.”

“Glad to see you do have a heart,” Ian teased.

“Good thing too. Kev kept pushing me to sell it. He wanted to split the money and he was going to buy a tv for the bar.”

Ian didn’t look upset over that, but said, “Can’t say I blame him. Listening to the Sox game over that shitty radio sucks.”

Mickey laughed, “He thought saying it was haunted would up the price.”

“Makes sense. I have friends who mess with Ouija boards and shit like that. They’d totally buy a haunted knife.”

“You sound calm for someone who almost lost a present from their dead mom.”

“I’m just glad Frank didn’t pawn it.”

Mickey nodded. They both sat in silence for a while, and then Mickey asked, “So, your mom. How did she die?”

“Brain cancer,” Ian said softly, “How did yours die?”

Mickey looked down at his hands, “Heroin overdose.”

Ian’s eyes widened at that, “That’s awful.”

Mickey shrugged, “It is what it is. I miss her though.”

“When did it happen?”

“I was fifteen. Came home from school and didn’t notice she was gone until my brother Colin came home from work and went into my parents’ room. The neighbors could even hear him screaming.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, it kinda messed him up. Him finding her and all, and also he was the closest to her.”

“Is that why he doesn’t talk?”

“He talks, it just takes a while for him to get comfortable around people. He doesn’t really smile or laugh anymore though.”

“Ever think about counseling?”

“Milkoviches don’t do counseling.”

“Why?”

“Don’t fucking need it,” Mickey snapped. As if on cue, a loud bang came from the Taco truck behind them. In a quick panic, Mickey threw himself onto the ground and covered his head. He felt tense all over.

“Mickey? Hey it’s ok. Something fell in the truck, it’s fine,” Ian said gently.

Mickey sighed in relief and let Ian pull him back up. Mickey muttered a, “Thanks,” and dusted himself off.

“Want to tell me what that was about?”

He needed to take the edge off. Mickey pulled out a cigarette and lit it, “Kinda forgot where I was.”

“Do you have to duck and cover a lot on the Southside?”

Mickey shook his head, “Maybe I feel a little tense from last night. I saw my neighbor shoot some guy in the street.”

Ian stared at him in shock, “What? Is he ok?”

“My neighbor? If you consider life in prison to be ok, then yeah he’s fuckin’ peachy. If you’re talking about the guy he shot, then no. He got shot in the head, probably died instantly.”

Ian looked as if he were going to be sick, “Jesus,” he muttered.

“Jesus ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.”

“I’m studying to be an EMT. I wanted to work over on the Southside, but if it’s like that then…” Ian trailed off.

“Hey, if you can’t handle it then don’t do it, or go somewhere with less crime.”

Ian nodded, and then looked to Mickey, “Are you ok?”

“What, after seeing someone die in front of me? I’ve been worse.”

“We can do something to take your mind off of it if you want,” Ian murmured, getting closer to Mickey.

“What, second degree murder turns you on?”

“I want to help you, and make you feel better. I don’t know any other way how,” he admits.

Mickey shook his head, “I’m not looking to be saved, Gallagher. This,” he motioned between him and Ian, “Isn’t going to turn into anything. I gotta lot of shit going on with me, and I don’t feel like dragging you in it.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, Mickey. We can just fuck if that’s what you want.”

Mickey liked the sound of that. He wouldn’t admit it to Ian, but when they had sex the first time, Mickey felt a release he didn’t feel with the guys he’d been with before. He felt calmer, and he slept better than he had been for months. “Alright,” Mickey said, and threw his cigarette to the ground.

Ian got close to Mickey’s ear and whispered, _“Wanna do it in my car?”_

Mickey’s breath hitched as he felt Ian bite his earlobe. “Lead the way,” he said, as he and Ian got up from the curb. When he and Ian got back to Ian’s car, the redhead wasted no time in finding a private place to stop his car.

Ian eventually parked in a nearby alleyway, and before Mickey knew it, the redhead’s lips were on his. Ian moaned, cupping Mickey’s jaw gently with one hand, and then used the other to sneak under his shirt to pinch Mickey’s nipple.

Mickey opened his mouth letting Ian slip his tongue in, while he tried to wiggle out of his pants. Mickey soon had to break the kiss, because his fucking pants wouldn’t cooperate with him. He quickly got out of his shoes, jeans and underwear, and then he took his shirt off, because fuck it.

Ian was instantly on him again, sucking a spot on Mickey’s neck that was right bellow his ear, and grabbing his dick, pumping it fast and hard.

Mickey’s eyes fluttered shut as he rolled up into Ian’s hand. He let himself give into Ian completely, letting the feel of euphoria wash over him. He then began to buck harder when he felt close to climax.

Ian pulled his hand away, and before Mickey could question it, he watched as Ian grabbed a small bottle of lube and a condom from the glove compartment. Mickey quickly moved to lean over the back seat. He shivered when he felt Ian flushed against him, ever more so when he heard the pop of the cap coming off.

“Oh,” Mickey sighed, feeling Ian push one finger in. He didn’t have much room to move his hips back, but Ian definitely learned his lesson last time by being too gentle. Mickey couldn’t contain the filth that spilled from his mouth as Ian rapidly pushed his finger in and out, soon adding two, and then three. Finally, Mickey felt Ian pull out, and then pull down his gym shorts, letting his erection slide up against Mickey’s ass.

Ian quickly rolled the condom on and then pushed into Mickey, “Fuck,” he groaned.

Mickey let out a long moan and let his head hang between his shoulders. He held on tight to the backseat head rest, while Ian pounded into him from behind. He let himself get lost again as Ian constantly hit his prostate with every thrust. Fuck, Mickey needed this. He really needed this. It was as if all the tension from what happened the night before, and his financial troubles, and his problems with Lip, or his ex-wife, and his fear for his family, just manifested together and pooled into the pit of his stomach. All it took was for Ian to grab his dick and tug, and Mickey was pouring all that negative energy out onto the back seats as he came with a weak cry.

Ian held him up, and didn’t stop until he came, muffling the sounds of his ecstasy against Mickey’s back.

They both stayed where they were, trying to control their breath. Finally, Ian pulled out and Mickey moved back to sit in his seat. "Can’t believe we fucked in your car,” he muttered, watching Ian dispose of the condom.

“Can’t believe you let me fuck you with your socks on.”

Mickey flipped him off and bent down to grab his clothes from the floorboard. He caught Ian staring while he put his underwear and pants back on, “The fuck you lookin’ at?”

Ian grinned lazily, “Nothing. I just like looking at you.”

“Well, fucking quit it.”

Ian just kept smiling, which made Mickey roll his eyes.

Mickey slipped his t-shirt back on and then looked behind him at the mess he left in the back seat, “Damn.”

Ian looked back too, “Don’t worry about it. It’s leather, so it’ll be easy to clean.”

Mickey nodded and let himself relax. He looked at his phone, realizing it was already five minutes before two. He sat up, “Fuck.”

“What?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Gonna be late for work.”

“Shit,” Ian said and quickly started up his car. He drove out of the alleyway and got back onto the road, “You gonna get in trouble?”

Mickey shook his head, “Nah. Brad and Cami are cool. I might get lectured by your brother though.”

“Oh, shit that’s right,” Ian groaned, “you work with Lip.”

“What, embarrassed that he’ll see you with me?”

“Fuck no. I’m worried about you, you’re the one that works with him.”

“Hey, I’m fucking ecstatic to show him where I’ve been the past few hours.”

Ian laughed at that, and Mickey grinned.

The rest of the car ride was silent. When they arrived at the bike shop, Mickey could see Brad and Lip standing outside talking. Brad was smoking and Lip was vaping, because of course that pompous asshole vaped.

When they stopped, Mickey watched as Lip stared at the car in a curious manner and then turn into bewilderment when he noticed Mickey in the passenger seat.

Mickey moved to get out of the car, but Ian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him hard on the mouth. When Mickey pulled back, he blinked at Ian in surprise, wondering what the fuck that was for, but then he glanced over Ian’s shoulder to see Lip seething and Mickey smirked, “Gonna get hell for that at home, firecrotch?”

Ian grinned wickedly, “Probably.”

“Later, Gallagher,” Mickey laughed and then exited the car. He waved bye to Ian, and then sauntered toward the garage.

“You’re late,” Brad rolled his eyes.

“Got caught up with something,” he said with a wink.

“Uh huh, I can see that. You’re not even wearing your work shirt.”

“I’ll grab an extra one in the back,” Mickey said, and he gave a nod to Lip as he walked past them, “Philip.”

The way Lip stared at him like he was Satan incarnate, made Mickey want to take a picture. Mickey would take a thousand train rides to Forest Glen just to see the shock and disgust on that smug bastard’s face again. Mickey didn’t think it could get any better than this until he heard Brad say, “What’s up with you? You know that guy, or something?”

Lip’s voice sounded appalled and defeated when he said, “Yeah, that’s my brother.”

Mickey smiled and let himself into the office to clock in. Sometimes life was good.


	5. Just A Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, here's chapter five. This chapter took me a lot longer to write than I'd hoped. Hopefully the next update wont take as long. Thanks for reading!

The Alibi was lively for a Monday night.

Ian sat at the bar, sipping his beer, and listening to the radio. He had been waiting for what felt like forever, but in reality, it had only been about forty-five minutes. It always felt like forever when he was waiting for Mickey.

It had been two weeks since they had made their ‘arrangement’, and Ian had been going down to the Southside almost every night to have sex with Mickey. They would fuck usually, but sometimes would settle for blow jobs and hand jobs if they were on a time crunch. It would mostly take place in his car, behind the Alibi, or in a public restroom someplace. It was nice, Ian thought, but he wanted more.

He knew that would be a problem since the whole point of no strings attached, was that there would be no hang-ups, no attachment. Ian, however, noticed the feelings he was starting to develop. He was getting a crush.

It was a pipe dream, he knew, but it wouldn’t stop him from liking Mickey. Ian didn’t think he could stop liking Mickey, even if he wanted to.

He sighed, and pulled his phone out to check the time, when he got a text from Mickey. _‘Comin’ for you, firecrotch,’_ the message read. It made Ian smile as he read the text over and over again.

Finally, the door to the Alibi opened to reveal Mickey in jeans and a cutoff shirt. Ian watched Mickey carefully as he downed the rest of his drink. Without another word, he got up and made his way to the restroom. When he opened the door, he saw Mickey leaning against the sink with his arms crossed. Ian crossed his as well, “You always pick the most romantic places.”

Mickey just smirked, “I didn’t hear you complaining when you fucked me against the dumpster last weekend.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Are we doing this, or what?”

“Well, I definitely didn’t come in here to take a piss. Lock the door.”

Ian did as he was told, and then watched as Mickey pushed himself off the sink and came towards him, “How was work today?”

“Sucked, like usual. Your fucking brother is a prick,” Mickey said, and then sunk to his knees.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Mickey didn’t look up at Ian as he unbuckled his belt, “No, I don’t. If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t be trying to shove your cock down my throat.”

“I get that,” Ian nodded while Mickey pulled down his pants and underwear. “I just think you’d feel better if you ta-” Ian was cut off by Mickey sucking on the tip of his dick, “Fuck,” he moaned.

Mickey hummed as he pushed himself further onto Ian. He bobbed his head up and down, creating a nice steady rhythm.

Ian carded his hands through Mickey’s hair, guiding Mickey’s head as he sucked Ian off.

Mickey dug his fingernails into Ian’s ass while he tried to fit Ian entirely down his throat. He ended up gagging when he could only fit Ian about halfway into his mouth.

“Don’t take more than you can handle,” Ian chastised in a sweet and sexy voice.

Mickey flipped him off as someone pounded on the door. Mickey pulled himself off Ian to yell, “It’s fucking occupied!”

Ian started to chuckle, but it soon turned into a moan. He could feel Mickey smile around his length. After a few minutes, Ian came without warning.

Mickey swallowed a little, but then pulled off, leaving the rest of Ian’s cum to splatter onto his face.

Ian tried to catch his breath, while Mickey cleaned up around his mouth.

“Want me to return the favor?”

Mickey shook his head, “Sometimes, all I need is a huge dick rammed down my throat,” he said, sounding hoarse.

“Plus, I don’t think Kev and V would be happy that we’re hogging up the bathroom.”

Mickey scoffed, “People have sex in here all the time. There’s a fucking gloryhole in one of the stalls.”

“Think we should have used that?” Ian raised his eyebrow as he pulled up his pants.

Mickey unlocked the door and opened it, “Like your fucking mammoth sized dick would have fit in that.”

Ian rolled his eyes, following Mickey out of the restroom, “It isn’t that big.”

“Have you fuckin’ seen it when I hold it in my hand? It’s like twice as big as mine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Ian argued as he and Mickey sat down at the bar, “It just seems big to you, because you have abnormally small hands.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey said, and then rapped his knuckles on the wooden surface, “Yo, Kev, two beers!”

Kev filled up two glasses, and then set them down in front of Ian and Mickey, “Don’t you two have your own houses you can bang in?”

“Don’t you know how to mind your own fucking business?” Mickey snapped.

“This is my business. This place is literally my business,” Kev said incredulously, “And I’m trying to keep my business from failing. But it’s kinda hard when I have customers coming to me, saying they can’t go take a shit, because two guys are railing each other in the bathroom.”

“Leave them alone, Kev,” V scolded as she stepped behind the bar, “They’re just kids.”

“Kids?! V, they’re like in their mid-twenties.”

V gave her husband a knowing look, “That’s still young. Remember how wild we were in our twenties?”

Kev gave her a lovesick smile as he nodded, “Before the girls were born.”

“Do you remember our honeymoon? We went to that motel in Gary, Indiana?” she cooed, slipping her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

Kev grinned blissfully, “We barely left the room.”

“Except for when we went to go swimming, and fucked in the pool,” she reminded him and kissed his back.

“Yeah.”

Ian stared at the couple with a smile. He thought it was sweet that they were so affectionate with each other, even after all these years. He looked over at Mickey, who was staring at them with discomfort. “They’re cute,” Ian whispered to Mickey.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “It gets less cute when you’ve accidently walked in on them fucking.”

Ian was about to ask for the story to that when Mickey pulled out some cash and laid it on the bar.

He chugged the rest of his beer, and then looked to Ian, “It’s on me this time, Red. You ready to bounce?”

Ian hadn’t finished his yet, but he nodded anyway. He’d had enough to drink for one night, and he still needed to drive back home. He may have only had one full beer, plus a little bit from the one Mickey had bought him, but alcohol affected him more when he was on his medication. Luckily, he wasn’t even buzzed.

After he and Mickey said goodbye to Kev and V, they made their way out into the warm summer night. They walked to Ian’s car in silence, and it got him thinking about what Kev had said to them earlier. Ian couldn’t help it, but what Kev had said to them about having nowhere else to have sex, was really bugging him. Not because he was embarrassed, he actually liked hooking up in public. The problem was Mickey, and that he never made an effort to take Ian back to his house, or at least to a motel. It made Ian feel a bit worthless when Mickey just fucked him and left.

“Hey, what are ya thinking about?”

Ian looked up to see Mickey staring at him, “What do you mean?”

Mickey gave him a look, and then pulled a cigarette out of his pocket to smoke, “Fine don’t tell me.”

Ian shrugged, “I was thinking about what Kev said. About why we don’t go somewhere else to bang.”

“Fuck him,” Mickey mumbled, lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

“So, why _don’t_ we ever have sex at your house?”

Mickey took a drag off his cigarette, before passing it to Ian, “The fuck you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t been there since we hooked up the first time.”

“So?”

“It’d be nice to fuck you in a bed for once. Not just in my jeep or at the bar.”

“Hey, we fucked behind the bar too.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “I’m being serious, Mickey.”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ever invite me to your place?” Mickey countered.

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Mickey,” Ian groaned.

“The fuck do you want from me, Gallagher?”

_‘To be with you,’_ Ian almost said, but held his tongue. Mickey had made it very clear from the beginning that he didn’t want what they were doing to go anywhere.

Ian knew he shouldn’t be upset over it. Their arrangement had been his idea in the first place. Though, it would be nice if Mickey treated him like a person, instead of a hooker. Ian couldn’t even call what they had friends with benefits, because they weren’t really friends, and that bothered him.

Ian sucked on the cigarette, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. Finally, he passed the cigarette back and said, “I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“Whatever, man, just forget it,” Ian sulked.

Mickey raised his brow, “What is your problem?”

“I said forget it,” Ian snapped, opening the driver’s side door.

“Whatever,” Mickey threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out, “Call me when you’re done acting like a little bitch.”

“Fuck you,” Ian said, getting into his car. He slammed the door shut.

Mickey flipped him off, and then walked away.

Ian watched Mickey as he walked back to his home. He didn’t leave his parking spot until Mickey was out of view. Ian sighed in frustration because he had no idea what to do.

A few days go by, and Ian is sitting in the living room with his sisters, Liam, Jimmy, and Franny.

Fiona and Jimmy were on the couch looking over wedding venues, while Liam was reading next to them, working on his summer reading list. Debbie and Ian were sitting on the floor, currently having a tea party with Franny.

“What do you think of this venue?” Fiona murmured, handing her laptop to Jimmy, “I think it would fit everyone on the guest list.”

Jimmy nodded, “Little pricey though.”

Fiona scoffed as she rolled her eyes, “Frank’s paying for it.”

“Good point.”

Ian sat there, listening to Fiona and Jimmy go over themes, and other wedding bullshit, while simultaneously checking his phone every five minutes. He was hoping Mickey would text him, but Mickey hadn’t tried to contact him since their fight. Ian sighed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He was annoyed that it bothered him so much.

A few minutes pass, and he went to check his phone again, when suddenly he was face to face with his niece.

“Tea!” Franny said excitedly, pushing a cup of imaginary tea into his hands.

“Thank you,” Ian smiled wide, “Is this for me?”

Franny nodded, and then picked up her princess tiara from the floor. She handed it to Ian, “Crown!”

“You want me to wear this?” Ian questioned and Franny nodded her head. He put the tiara on, and then sipped his pretend tea.

“Pretty!” Franny giggled. She turned to Debbie and shook her mother’s shoulder, “Mommy, look!”

Debbie looked up from her phone and looked to where her daughter was pointing, “Oh, wow. Did you share your princess crown with Uncle Ian?”

Franny jumped in place, nodding, “Pretty!”

“He sure is,” Debbie grinned. She put her phone down and pulled her daughter into a hug.

Franny screamed with delight when Debbie started to tickle her.

Ian felt his phone buzz and he quickly checked his texts, hoping it would be Mickey. When he saw that it wasn’t Ian tossed his phone on the floor with a huff.

“Bad news?” Fiona asked from the couch.

“Kinda,” Ian admitted, “I’m hoping this guy I’m hooking up with will text me back. We kinda got into it a few nights ago and I’m hoping I didn’t mess anything up.”

“Ooh, you’re seeing someone new?”

“Maybe? We’re only having sex.”

“Is it that Southside guy you left in the middle of the night to go see?” Jimmy questioned, not looking away from the laptop.

“Yeah, it is. Why?”

“Your brother wouldn’t shut up about him the other week. Something about working with him, and you came by, and it pissed him off? I don’t know, I was only half listening.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Lip needs to mind his own business. I was just dropping him off at work.”

“He said you basically made out with the guy in front of him just to make him mad.”

“Ok, maybe I did do that intentionally, but he deserved it for being an asshole.”

Fiona snorted out a laugh, “Ok, that’s pretty funny.”

“Yeah, but now Lip’s avoiding me like the plague.”

“So, let him sulk,” Fiona said, “Do you like this guy you’ve been sleeping with?”

“Yeah,” Ian said with conviction, “I really do, but all we have is sex.”

“But you want it to be more?”

Ian nodded, “He doesn’t seem interested in being my friend, or even being around me unless sex is involved.”

“Well, do something,” Liam said, putting his book down, “Because watching you desperately hang around your phone all day is just sad, man.”

“Never just wait around for him to call you,” Debbie chimed in, “If you know what you want, go and get it. Make it impossible for him to ignore you.”

Liam raised his eyebrow, “He’s already sad and desperate. Do you want to add stalker also?”

“Liam’s right,” Fiona said.

“Guys, I’m literally right here,” Ian complained.

Debbie gave her brother a stern look, “Liam, you’re only nine. What do you know about relationships?”

Liam rolled his eyes, and then went back to his book, “More than you, apparently.”

Debbie turned to Ian, “Listen, do whatever you think is best, but if you don’t make it obvious to him that you want more then you’ll be waiting forever.”

“What if he doesn’t want me?”

Debbie scoffed, “Seriously? You’re a Gallagher. We’re cursed with having people fall madly in love with us,” she teased playfully.

“Yeah, even the scummiest degenerates of the earth,” Lip said as he walked into the living room.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Ian shot back as he watched Lip flip him off and go up the stairs.

Debbie sighed in irritation, “You should go talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your brother, and I know it’s bothering you that you guys aren’t talking. I know it bothers Lip too. So, stop being a baby, and go up there and talk it out.”

Ian groaned. He knew Debbie was right. He got up from his spot and went upstairs to talk to Lip. He knocked on Lip’s door, and when his brother didn’t answer, he went into the room anyway.

Lip was sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He wouldn’t look up at Ian.

Ian stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity. He didn’t know how to start the conversation, and Lip sure wasn’t any help. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, “Look, I’m sorry if you’re pissed about me and Mickey,” Ian finally said. When Lip didn’t respond, Ian continued, “But I really like him. He makes me feel a certain way that I’ve never felt with anybody else before. I know you just want to look out for me, but I’m a grown man. I can make my own decisions. And, I’d hope, as my brother, you’d support me in them.”

Lip kept his head down, not looking up from his phone.

Ian sighed and made his way over to Lip. He sat down next to his brother, “Do you remember Ryan Crandall, my fifth-grade bully?”

Lip finally looked up at Ian, “Don’t tell me you’re banging him too.”

Ian laughed and shook his head, “He’d always stop me outside of school and beat the shit out of me. He’d take my lunch and step on it. Broke any toy I brought with me to school.”

“Yeah, and the school wouldn’t do shit about it, because his father paid for the library.”

“You always stood up for me. You’d pick fights with him, and he was twice your size. You started walking with me to and from school. You’d keep my lunch with you until I needed it. You protected me.”

“Well, someone had to. Frank and Monica wouldn’t help, and the teachers were useless. Fiona was in high school, and even if she weren’t, she’d probably go all Fiona on the kid, and make it worse.”

“You were there for me,” Ian affirmed, “Then the school year ended, and you moved to the middle school, and I was stuck in sixth grade with Ryan. I remember the week before school started, you were drawing out maps and pointing out hiding places where I could avoid the guy. I mean you stayed up until morning over that, because you wanted to keep me safe,” he chuckled.

Lip laughed, “Yeah, I remember that.”

“Finally, the first day came around and I realized that I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to walk by Ryan without being afraid. I wanted to be like you. So, the first thing I did was find him, and I told him I wanted to end it. I challenged him to a fight. You were so pissed off when I told you.”

“Yeah, because I thought he was going to kill you.”

“But I told you to trust me. I told you I could do it, and finally I got you to believe me.”

Lip nodded, “In my defense, I didn’t know you had taken boxing classes over the summer. You did kick his ass though.”

Ian smirked, “He didn’t mess with me for the rest of the year. Do you understand what I’m trying to say though?”

“You want to challenge me to a fight?”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Lip, be serious.”

Lip laughed, “Alright, alright.”

“Listen, I get it. I know my illness can affect my judgment, but I’m managing it, and I want you to trust me. I want you to trust that I can make my own decisions. I want to be with Mickey, and I want you to be ok with that. You’re my brother and I care about what you think.”

Lip let out an exasperated sigh, “You really like him, huh?”

Ian nodded, “I really do.”

“Fine then.”

Ian almost thought he didn’t hear Lip correctly, “Fine then?”

“Yeah. You’re right, y’know. I need to let you make your own decisions. If you say he’s ok, then I’ll take your word for it. Even though I think he’s a massive prick.”

Ian smiled a genuine smile, “Thanks, man.”

Lip smiled back, “So,” he said, “should we be expecting your new boyfriend over for dinner now?”

Ian sighed, “The thing is we’re not actually _together_ together.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t want any type of commitment.”

“Ah, I see. Stuck in the friend zone?”

“More like the fuck zone. He only wants sex, and then he’s done with me. It makes me feel cheap. It would be different if we hung out, and then did the whole no strings attached thing, but we don’t.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“I mean not in those exact words.”

“Well, maybe you should start there.”

“I’m going down there later today. Debbie said I need to make it impossible for him to ignore me.”

Lip nodded as if that sounded like something Debbie would say, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Lip pointed to Ian’s head, “You gonna wear that when you talk to him, Princess?”

Ian touched the tiara on top of his head. He forgot he was still wearing it. “What? You don’t think this would get his attention?” Ian asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lip and Ian stared at each other for a moment before they both started laughing. Ian felt good to have Lip back on his side again.

A few hours later, Ian drove his car to Mickey’s. He rehearsed what he was going to say the entire drive down there, but once he pulled up to the house, Ian was at a loss for words. He knew Mickey wasn’t a guy who appreciated flowery language, but Ian felt like if he were brutally honest then it would freak Mickey out. How was he supposed to tell Mickey that he felt they had a deep connection without looking like a weirdo? They’d only known each other for a month, and had an arrangement specifically designed to keep them from catching feelings. It was all so complicated.

With a sigh, Ian got out of the car. He made his way up the steps, and then knocked on the door. Ian waited a minute before he knocked again. He almost decided to give up when the door opened.

Mickey’s sister, Mandy, leaned in the doorway. She looked as if she’d been crying, “What do you want?”

“Hey,” Ian smiled, “Mandy, right? Is your brother around?”

Mandy moved to shut the door, “No.”

Ian stopped the door with his hand, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No.”

“Oh. Would you mind if I went inside and waited for him?”

“Yes,” she said and crossed her arms.

Ian nodded in defeat, ready to leave, but then he saw Mandy’s arms. They were bleeding and littered with scratch marks, “Holy shit, what happened to your arms?”

Mandy shrunk back, “Fuck off,” she sneered, and then tried to shut the door again, but Ian blocked the door with his foot. “Holy fuck, move your foot.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ian said with sincerity.

“It’s whatever.”

“I have some first aid stuff in my car. I could clean you up if you want?”

Mandy looked like she was considering it, but then she shook her head, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Mandy nodded, her expression looking a little softer, “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll tell Mickey you stopped by.”

Ian stepped back, so Mandy could shut the door. He made his way down the steps, but then heard the front door open again. He turned around.

Mandy stood there, looking sheepish, “Hey.”

“Hey?”

“We actually don’t have a lot of medical supplies in the house. My brother Iggy got mugged the other night, so we used most of our stuff on him. He got stabbed.”

Ian’s eyes widened, “Is he ok?”

Mandy waved him off, “He’s fine. We got V to come over and stitch him up. It’s just,” She looked to the ground, “If you wanted to come in and wait for Mickey, you can.”

Ian gave her a reassuring smile, “Yeah. Let me just grab my kit.”

Mandy nodded, and went back inside, leaving the door open.

Ian grabbed his first aid kit, and then made his way into the Milkovich house, shutting the door behind him. He saw Mandy sitting on the couch, hugging her knees. Ian sat down next to her as Mandy eyed him carefully.

Mandy laughed a little when Ian opened the first aid kit, “Wow, that’s a lot of stuff. You like an undercover doctor or something?”

Ian chuckled, “I’m studying to be an EMT. It’s always good to have a first aid kit in the home, and in your car. Y’know, just in case of emergencies.”

“Like Iggy getting stabbed?”

“Well,” Ian said, grabbing the hydrogen peroxide, “That might be more of a hospital emergency, instead of an at home emergency.”

“Uh, have you seen where we live? Does it look like we have money to go to the ER?”

“None of you have insurance from your jobs?”

Mandy gave Ian a hard look, “My cousin and I work at a diner, my brother Colin works at the meat packing plant, and Mickey works in a bike shop, so no. We can’t afford private insurance either.”

Ian felt like an idiot for asking, so he changed the subject, “How’d you end up with these scratches?”

Mandy looked reluctant to tell Ian, but then she said, “I get nightmares. Sometimes I hurt myself in my sleep.”

Ian nodded and gently dabbed at Mandy’s arm, “What are they about?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Ian understood that. He continued to clean Mandy up in silence. He wondered what type of nightmares were so bad that they caused you to scratch yourself in your sleep. He’d never ask again, out of respect for Mandy, but it did make him wonder.

When Ian finished, Mandy looked up at him, “What’s going on with you and my brother?”

Ian answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”

“Like do you like him?”

“Yeah, I like him.”

Mandy shifted in her spot, so she was completely facing Ian, “Yeah, but do you _like him_ like him, or do you just like fucking him?”

Ian smiled a little, “I like him.”

Mandy stared at him for a moment as if she were trying to see if Ian were lying or not, “Good.”

“The problem is I don’t think he likes me.”

“Oh, he likes you,” Mandy scoffed.

Ian’s eyes lit up with hope, “Really, how can you tell?”

“Easy, he rarely checks his phone. He doesn’t like calling or texting people. Unless, of course, it has something to do with Yev.”

“And?”

“And, ever since he’s been hooking up with you, the damn thing never leaves his side.”

“Really?”

Mandy smiled and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, he sure has a funny way of showing me he likes me.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, “Mickey has the social skills of a goldfish. He doesn’t really have close friends, or friends really,” she looked Ian up and down, “Which is why I find it so interesting that he lets you hang around him.”

Ian felt a bit uncomfortable with how Mandy was staring at him. He cleared his throat, “So, when do you think Mickey will get home?”

Mandy shrugged, “Don’t know. He’s at work, so he’ll either get here around seven, or if he stops by the Alibi, it could be around midnight until he gets back. Yevgeny doesn’t come back until Sunday.”

Ian nodded, not really knowing what to do, “So, what now?”

“Well,” Mandy said, getting up from the couch, “usually after one of my freak outs, I smoke weed and watch The Office. You down?”

Ian grinned, “Doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend an afternoon.”

Mandy grinned back, and then went to her room. She came back with a small baggie of weed, a grinder, and a bowl. She sat down next to Ian and started getting the bowl ready, “I used to have a bong,” she said offhandedly, “Until Iggy fucking tripped over it and it broke. He was probably coked out or some stupid shit like that.”

Ian nodded as he watched her pack the bowl, and then light it. He accepted it after she took a hit. They passed it back and forth for a while, and then set in to watch The Office. However, they soon became disinterested and started talking.

Ian and Mandy kept the conversation going for about five hours straight. They talked about everything, from music, to movies, to tv shows, to politics, and about everything in between. However, the conversation never got too personal. Neither of them mentioned their family or family drama, which was fine by Ian. He liked the fact that he didn’t have to bring up his past, or his bipolar disorder, or his family, or his family’s wealth. Mandy didn’t seem interested in that. She only seemed interested in him, and who he was now. Ian liked that about her.

After a while, they’d gotten bored and decided on walking down to the corner store to get some snacks. When they exited the store, the sun was just starting to go down, and Ian looked around at the lull of activity that happened in the late evening. The air had gotten cooler, but it was still warm. Ian watched as people closed shops or walked their dog one last time before it got dark. To Ian, the Southside wasn’t just the ‘bad part’ or ‘violent side’ of Chicago, but a side of the city that was filled with people who were just living their lives. It was almost beautiful.

Mandy held onto Ian’s arm as they walked, “Y’know, you’re not so bad, Northside.”

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Too bad you’re gay because I think I really like you,” she grinned.

Ian smiled as well, and decided he really liked Mandy too. She was like Mickey, but more affectionate.

“Also, don’t sweat over my brother. I think you could do a lot better. There are tons of guys I know who’d give it up for you in a heartbeat.”

Ian rolled his eyes affectionately, “I don’t want to do better. I think Mickey’s pretty amazing.”

“Ugh, barf,” Mandy teased.

“The only problem is he won’t spend time with me if it doesn’t involve my dick in his ass. My siblings think I should talk to him about how I feel.”

“No, don’t do that,” Mandy warned.

“Why not?”

“Mickey’s a goldfish, remember? If you go around saying you want to be with him, he’ll probably smack you. I can tell you how to get his attention if you want.”

Ian looked to her, genuinely curious, “Yeah? How’s that?”

“Mickey can’t stand being ignored, especially if he’s ignored for someone else. He gets crazy jealous. He’s been that way since we were kids. One time when he was like twelve, him and my cousin Sandy got into a fight, and Sandy spent the whole week hanging out with some other guy she was friends with. Mickey beat the shit out of him.”

Ian raised his eyebrow, “Ok? I’m not seeing the point.”

“You say all Mickey wants from you is sex. Let me ask you this. When he asks for it, do you always give it to him?”

“Well, yeah.”

“See, that’s your problem. Try being more aloof. Tell him you’re busy, but maybe you’ll hang with him later.”

Ian laughed, “I’m sorry, but that sounds so dumb.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, “It’ll work. Mickey won’t put any effort into trying to get to know you, because you’re already giving him what he wants. He has no other competition for your attention. So, of course he’s going to skimp out on trying to be your friend. Show him that you aren’t just going to settle for a quickie behind the Alibi. If he wants your dick, he’s gonna have to work for it.”

Ian nodded slowly. He was starting to see what Mandy was saying, “Ok, but how do I do that?”

“Ok, first you need to stop acting so desperate. Try ignoring his advances. Maybe blow him off a few times. Then start hanging out with some other boy, and then he’ll get super jealous.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want him to get so pissed he’d kill the guy.”

“Ok, well then just hang out with me. He won’t hurt me, and he’ll still get jealous. Plus, you’ll have a reason to stop by the house.”

“I think you just want a reason to hang out with me more,” Ian smirked.

Mandy shrugged, “Maybe. I should get to have friends too. That is, if we are friends?”

“We are if you want to be.”

Mandy smiled up at him and squeezed his arm tighter as they walked up to her house.

A few hours later Ian and Mandy decided to smoke again. They passed the bowl back and forth, while listening to Ian’s Spotify playlist. Mandy had her legs stretched out over Ian’s lap, reading a magazine, while Ian was painting her toes. They started singing along to Psycho by Post Malone when Mickey walked through the door.

“The fuck are you doing here?” was the first thing Mickey said, when he saw the pair lounging on the couch together.

Ian smiled up at him, “Well, I came here earlier looking for you. Your sister said I could wait.”

“Well, there’s this fucking thing called a phone, you could have just texted me,” Mickey said, and then noticed what they were smoking. He looked to Mandy, annoyed, “You’re letting him smoke our weed?”

Mandy rolled her eyes, “My weed, fuck head. I bought it.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, and then looked to Ian, “Well, since I’m here now, we gonna fuck or what?”

Ian almost said yes, but then glanced to Mandy, who gave him a knowing look. Ian turned to Mickey, “Actually, I’m hanging out with Mandy right now.”

Mickey raised his brow incredulously, “I thought you said the whole reason you came over here was to see me?”

“I did, but you weren’t here, so I decided to spend the day with your sister.”

“I was at work. Also, Mandy’s fucking boring. All she does is chick stuff. Why do you want to hang out with her?”

Mandy picked up her empty soda can off the floor and threw it at Mickey, “Fuck you, asshole. Maybe he likes hanging out with me, because I don’t treat him like a piece of shit.”

“What happened to your arms?” Mickey was serious now.

Mandy stared him down. It was obvious that she didn’t want to tell him, but it seemed Mickey already knew the answer, “I had another nightmare.”

Ian could see the fear and upset in Mickey’s eyes. He really wanted to go over there and comfort him, but Mickey would never allow Ian to do that, especially in front of other people.

Mickey crossed his arms, “Oh, and you just weren’t going to tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. You have them too, so why don’t you worry about yourself.”

“You should have told me. I could have come home and-”

“Ian was here. He patched me up, so we’re all good now,” Mandy said harshly.

“Great,” Mickey said. His voice was hard, and it was evident what Mandy said hurt him, "Well, fuck you guys, I’m going to my room. Have fun playing nurse.”

“Mick,” Mandy sighed.

Mickey didn’t say anything as he went to his room and slammed the door.

Mandy flinched. She looked to Ian with a guilty look on her face, “He’ll be ok.”

“Yeah?”

“It just pisses me off,” she said, moving her legs off Ian, “He blames himself for my nightmares, but it isn’t his fault. What happened to me, he couldn’t have stopped it. It had been going on long before he even knew.”

Ian wanted to ask what she was referring to, but he decided not to pry. If Mandy wanted to tell him she would. Ian sighed and picked up the magazine Mandy was reading and looked at it.

Mandy pointed to one of the women on the page, “That’s the color I want to dye my hair.”

“That one?” Ian asked, pointing to the blonde.

“Yeah, I’d been wanting to go blonde for a while. A more natural color y’know? Not like a bleach blonde.”

Ian nodded, “It’s pretty.”

Mandy smiled up at him.

Ian smiled back when he heard Mickey’s door open. He watched as Mickey trudged back over to the couch.

“Move over, fuckers,” he grumbled, pushing Ian over to sit next to him.

Mandy and Ian scooted over to accommodate Mickey, “Thought you were going to bed,” Mandy said gently.

“Not tired. Besides, this is my house, and a free fucking country. I’m playing videogames.”

“Ok,” she said, giving him an apologetic smile.

Mickey stared at her for a moment, and then picked up his Xbox controller.

Ian looked between them, wondering if that were how they apologized to each other, or if there would be a more personal apology after he left. He looked to Mickey, who was keeping his eyes on the tv. Ian scooted closer to him, so their knees would touch. He saw Mickey visibly tense, but he didn’t make Ian move.

The three of them sat in silence, watching the screen. Ian inched his hand closer to Mickey’s leg. He ran the back of his finger back and forth across Mickey’s denim clad knee. Ian watched as Mickey’s breath slightly hitched. Ian smirked.

Mickey cursed when he finally died. He then shoved the controller at Ian’s chest, “Here.”

Ian gave Mickey a confused look, “What?”

“Wanna see if you can beat my score.”

Ian grinned and started the next game.

On Sunday, Ian was over at the Milkovich house again. He had been over almost every day since him and Mandy became friends. He’d been hesitant at first to try out Mandy’s advice for how to handle Mickey, but to Ian’s surprise it seemed to be working.

It went like this. Ian would come over after his workout, or class, and then him and Mandy would hang out until Mickey got off work. Mickey would act annoyed that Ian was there, and then peel off into his room only to come back out a few minutes later. They’d play video games until Ian decided to leave. It wasn’t a lot, but it was better than nothing. Plus, Mandy said since Ian started hanging around the house, Mickey came home right after work, which meant he wasn’t stopping by the Alibi.

So, Ian would say that putting distance between him and Mickey was working in his favor. However, he eventually broke his ‘not giving Mickey sex’ rule last night, because Ian also had needs, and he loved having sex with Mickey. Even better, it was the first time they had sex in Mickey’s bed since the night they first hooked up. So, Ian was more than satisfied.

Now, Ian was playing videogames while Mandy sat next to him and watched. They were both waiting on Mickey to get back with the pizza they had ordered. When he eventually died, he looked over to Mandy, “You wanna turn?”

“Nah, I already beat it.”

Ian nodded, and then turned of the console, deciding he didn’t want to play anymore. He waited there with Mandy, when finally, the door opened. Ian hoped that it was Mickey with their food, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was Yevgeny, Mickey’s son.

Yevgeny shut the door behind him and slipped off his backpack.

“Hey, buddy,” Mandy smiled, “You ready for camp tomorrow?”

Yevgeny nodded, and then noticed Ian sitting next to Mandy. He backed up a bit, looking apprehensive.

Ian gave him a reassuring smile, “Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Hi,” Yevgeny looked to the floor.

“Your name’s Yevgeny, right?”

Yevgeny nodded wordlessly.

“That’s a cool name.”

Yevgeny looked back up to Ian, “My mommy named me after my dedushka.”

“His grandfather. It’s Russian,” Mandy clarified.

“My name’s Ian,” Ian offered, but Yevgeny didn’t say anything. He tried racking his brain for something else to say, but he came up with nothing. He looked over to Yevgeny’s backpack and noticed a Spider-Man button pinned to it. He pointed to it, “You like superheroes?”

Yevgeny looked to his bag, and then nodded excitedly, “My favorite is Spider-Man.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s the best one. He can swing from buildings using webs, and he beats up all the bad guys, and he saves everyone in the city, but he goes to school too! And he goes and saves the whole world with the Avengers!” Yevgeny said passionately, waving his arms around for emphasis.

“Wow,” Ian said with interest, “He does sound like the best.”

“My daddy took me to see Into the Spider-Verse last year. That’s my favorite movie. Have you seen it?”

Ian shook his head, “I don’t think I have.”

Yevgeny’s jaw dropped. It was like Ian had told him he didn’t breathe air, “We gotta watch it right now!”

Ian laughed, “Ok.”

“Aunt Mandy Aunt Mandy,” Yevgeny said, as he sat between Mandy and Ian, “We gotta show him. Can we watch it please?”

Mandy laughed affectionately, “Sure we can.”

“Daddy bought it on the tv. Oh!” he said suddenly turning to Mandy, “We’re having a party at camp on Friday!”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! And, I told them I would bring cupcakes. Can we make cupcakes, Aunt Mandy?”

“Yeah, I think we can swing that. Just tell me what flavor you want, and I’ll pick up a box from the store on Thursday.”

“No!” Yevgeny said quickly, “I don’t want cupcakes from a box. I wanna _make it_ make it.”

Mandy raised her eyebrow, “You mean like from scratch?”

“Yeah! Look it,” Yevgeny hopped off the couch and got into his bag. He pulled out a folded piece of paper, “Mommy helped me print this,” he said, handing the paper to Mandy.

Ian looked over Mandy’s shoulder to see that the piece of paper was a recipe. Ian nodded; it was pretty straight forward. However, when he looked to Mandy, she had her brow creased with worry.

“Uh, Yev, I don’t know if we’ll be able to make this.”

Yevgeny’s face fell, “Why not?”

Mandy chewed on her bottom lip, “Well, we don’t have an electric mixer, or measuring cups.”

“We can borrow some from someone,” Yevgeny murmured.

“Well, we also don’t really have any of these ingredients, or-” Mandy stopped when she saw Yevgeny start to rub at his teary eyes.

Ian grabbed the paper from Mandy and started reading down the list, “Y’know, I have most of this stuff at home.”

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up, “Really?”

“Yeah. I can bring it by if you want?”

Yevgeny gasped, “Aunt Mandy, can Ian bring his stuff over to make cupcakes, pretty please?”

Mandy blinked in surprise, “Uh, yeah, I don’t see why not.”

Yevgeny turned to Ian, “Can you help us make them, Ian?”

Now it was Ian’s turn to be surprised, “Oh, uh, sure. I love to bake.”

Mandy looked to him, “Really?”

“Yeah, I used to bake all the time with my sisters,” Ian looked to Yevgeny, “We also used to make our own frosting. We can do that too if you want?”

Yevgeny was jumping up and down now, “Yeah yeah yeah. This is gonna be so great. I’m gonna make cupcakes, and we’re gonna watch my favorite movie tonight! I can’t wait to tell dad when he gets home!”

Mandy and Ian smiled at Yevgeny’s excitement.

“Well, go wash your hands, because your dad should be home with pizza any minute.”

“Ok, don’t start the movie without me!” Yev exclaimed, running to the bathroom.

Ian smiled warmly. He found himself becoming very fond of Mickey’s family. He then remembered something he’d said to Mickey when Ian met up with him to get his knife back. When Ian found out Yevgeny had been the one who had taken his knife, he told Mickey that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. It was meant as a jab because he was hurting at the time. But now, after spending time with Mickey and finally getting to talk with Yevgeny. Ian realized that when it came to Mickey and his son, the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree, and that wasn’t a bad thing at all.


	6. Why Can't We Be Friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry if this seems rushed. I tried to finish it before work. Thanks for reading!

On Thursday, Ian hit the gym early, before he went to his class.

When he got back to the house, everybody was already up doing their own thing. Fiona and Jimmy had left to go talk to caterers, while Sheila took Liam to his first day of basketball camp. Carl had left to go see his girlfriend, Kelly, at softball practice. Lip was in his room on a skype call with professor Youenns, and Debbie was somewhere around the house doing something with Franny.

Ian walked into the kitchen and grabbed something quick to eat. When he was done, he grabbed one of Sheila’s recipe books, and thumbed through it until he found the recipe for homemade buttercream frosting. He took a screenshot of it, and then put the book back.

He started grabbing some measuring cups from the drawers and the whisk. He then got down into the bottom cabinets to grab the cupcake trays, and the electric mixer, setting each item carefully next to him as he pulled them out.

“What are you doing with that stuff?” A voice suddenly said.

Ian jumped, causing his head to knock against the cabinet, “Ow, fuck,” he grumbled as he got up from his spot. He turned to look at Lip with a scowl.

Lip grinned, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, you look like it,” Ian rolled his eyes and gathered what all he had to set it on the counter.

“Seriously though,” Lip leaned against the wall, “You’re baking?”

“Cupcakes.”

“Is it someone’s birthday or something?”

“No. They’re for Yevgeny’s party for camp.”

Lip raised his eyebrow, “Who’s Yevgeny?”

“Mickey’s son?”

Lip raised his brow ever higher, “Mickey has a son?”

“Yeah,” Ian said as he started putting the baking supplies into a paper bag, “You didn’t know that?”

“Why the fuck would I?”

“You work with him?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to know his whole life story. How old is he?”

“He’s six.”

“Wow,” Lip said, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” Ian said, as he opened the top cabinets to get out things like flour, baking soda, and vanilla, “I guess Mickey married this Russian prostitute, but they divorced when he was sent to prison and he came out as gay. At least, that’s what Mickey’s sister told me.”

Lip smirked, “You really know how to pick’em, huh?”

“He knows how to pick what?” Debbie questioned as she walked into the kitchen with Franny on her heels.

“Men.”

“Leave him alone, Lip,” Debbie sighed.

“I’m not saying anything,” Lip raised his hands in defense, while Ian rolled his eyes.

Debbie opened the fridge and pulled out a juice box for Franny, “Besides, I’m pretty sure I have the worst taste in men. Why do you think I switched over to women?”

“Because you like to copy me,” Ian teased.

“Shut up, you don’t own being gay,” she said, and then looked at Ian’s bag on the counter, “What’s all this for?”

“He’s making cupcakes with a six-year-old Russian boy,” Lip said.

“He’s what?”

“His name’s Yevgeny. He’s the son of the guy I’ve been seeing.”

“You’ve met his son already?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Debbie said, handing the juice box to her daughter, “It’s a good thing. I’d never let anyone meet Franny unless I wanted them to stick around.”

“Well,” Ian rubbed the back of his head, “The first time I met him, I think it was an accident. His mom dropped him off unexpectantly. Other times he just comes and goes. Mickey didn’t really formally introduce us.”

“But he’s fine with you being around his six-year-old son?”

“I guess so.”

“Then that’s still good. He’s got to at least tolerate you if he’s letting you hang around his kid.”

“Speaking of Mickey. Did you ever talk to him about wanting to spend more time with him?” Lip questioned.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Mickey’s sister, Mandy, told me that he’s socially inept and if I tried to express my feelings to him, he’d probably hit me.”

Lip nodded, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Ok,” Debbie said and raised her eyebrow, “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Well, Mandy said that Mickey gets really jealous. So, me and her have been hanging out a lot to make him jealous, and I’ve been giving him less sex, so he’d take the initiative to try and keep me around by being nice to me.”

“Right, ok,” Lip said, “Because that’s not going to blow up in your face.”

Ian rolled his eyes and picked up the bag off the counter, “Just trust me, ok? Mickey’s a goldfish, so I have to keep my distance and hang out with other people to make him realize he wants to be with me.”

“I understood absolutely none of that, but good luck,” Lip said as Ian passed him to walk out of the kitchen.

When Ian arrived at Mandy’s it was already time to go pick Yevgeny up from camp. He offered to drive her over there and waited patiently while Mandy went in to sign Yevgeny out for the day.

When Yevgeny jumped in the car, he immediately started talking a hundred miles an hour, “Hi, Ian! Your car is so cool! It’s even got air conditioning. I wish my dad’s truck had air conditioning, because in the summer your legs stick to the seats. Did you get the stuff for the cupcakes? I told everyone at camp they were going to be homemade, and they were like nuh-uh, and I was like yeah-huh, and then at playtime, me and Amy dared Gemma to eat a caterpillar we saw on a tree, and she did it! And then at snack time, Gemma still had caterpillar bits in her teeth and Mrs. Roberts almost threw up, and- and look,” Yevgeny said, reaching into his pocket, “I found this cool rock!”

Ian laughed, trying to keep up with what Yevgeny was saying, “You gonna put that rock somewhere special?”

“Nah, I’ll probably throw it at a car later.”

Ian chose to ignore that last part and said, “That’s great, Yev,” he then looked over to Mandy who was reading over the cupcake recipe. “We don’t have everything, but we can stop by Save-A-Lot and get the rest.”

Mandy nodded, and then furrowed her brow, “Why the hell do we need sour cream?”

“It makes the cupcakes moist,” Ian explained.

“Ew, Ian,” Mandy shuddered, “don’t say that word.”

“What, moist?”

“Yes,” Mandy glared at him.

“Moist!” Yevgeny yelled from the back seat, giggling.

Ian laughed as he put the car in drive, while Mandy rolled her eyes.

When they got to the store, Ian grabbed a cart, which Yevgeny immediately hopped on the back of.

“Ok, we only need a few things,” Ian said, pushing the cart through the aisle.

“Plus, we need to get some stuff to put on top of the cupcakes, like decorations,” Mandy said.

“I wanna pick out the decorations!”

Ian smiled at Yevgeny’s enthusiasm, “Of course, man. They’re your cupcakes.”

“Can we get sprinkles to put on top of the cupcakes, Ian?”

“Yeah, we can do that. We could put sprinkles in the cupcakes too. Like funfetti.”

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up, like Ian had just had the greatest idea in the history of great ideas, “Yeah!”

“Ok, you know where the cake decorations are, buddy,” Mandy said, “Ian and I are going to get the rest of this stuff. We’ll be in the dairy section if you need us, ok?”

“Ok, Aunt Mandy. I’m gonna get the best decorations,” he promised, before hopping off the cart and running off.

“Is it safe to let him roam the store by himself?”

Mandy waived Ian off, “He’ll be ok. We taught him stranger danger. Besides, he likes to do things by himself. It makes him feel like a grown up.”

Ian nodded, and then him and Mandy made their way through the aisles, picking up what they needed.

In the silence between them, Ian found his mind shifting to Mickey. It had been almost a week and he was making very little progress with the dark-haired boy. It made Ian wonder if he was doing this all wrong. He wondered if Mickey was worth pursuing romantically, or even as a friend. Maybe Mickey didn’t like him all that much, and Mandy had it all wrong. It was just so confusing.

As if Mandy could read his mind, she asked, “So, how are things going with my brother?”

Ian shrugged, “Ok, I guess.”

Mandy stopped, “Oh, no, that doesn’t sound good. Is the plan not working?”

“It’s not _not_ working,” Ian admitted.

“Give Mickey some time, Ian. I promise he really likes you. It’s just,” Mandy looked to the ground, as if she were thinking very carefully about what she wanted to say. She then looked back up to Ian,” where we grew up, and how we were raised. It fucked up Mickey’s ability to be friendly, and outgoing, and romantic, and shit like that. He’s not the guy that wants to go to expensive dinners or be the kind of guy that picks up flowers for their boyfriend on the way home, or at least not right now anyway. He will though, eventually. But, for right now just stick to the plan and be patient.”

Ian nodded as he watched Mandy open one of the refrigerator doors, “But how do I even know it’s working?”

Mandy grabbed a gallon of milk, “Easy. Does he get that look in his eyes when he’s with you?”

“What look?”

Mandy turned to him and smirked, “You’ll know when you see it.”

Ian had no idea what that meant, but he didn’t want to question Mandy. He could understand how Mickey would have a problem with affection and commitment due to his upbringing, even if Mandy hadn’t given specific details, Ian could piece together what it might have been like just from what she and Mickey had told him already.

Mandy put the milk in the cart, “I think that was it right?”

“Yeah. Oh, do you want me to grab some snacks while we’re here? Like chips and stuff?”

Mandy nodded, “Actually, yeah. That’d be great. Get me some Funyuns.”

“You got it,” Ian said, and jogged over to the chip aisle. Ian had grabbed Mandy’s Funyuns, when he saw Yevgeny run up to him.

“Ian, look!” He exclaimed, his hands full with cupcake decorations, “I got these sprinkles to go in the cupcakes, and these star ones go on top, and look,” he held up a bag of cupcake wrappers, “These got balloons on them.”

Ian grinned at him, “That’s great, Yev. You want me to grab any chips for you?”

Yevgeny nodded, “Dad and I like BBQ Pringles.”

“Pringles it is,” he said, grabbing the BBQ Pringles off the shelf. He ruffled Yevgeny’s hair, and they both went back to find Mandy.

When they got back to the dairy aisle, Ian was surprised to see that Mandy wasn’t alone, but in fact, talking to a middle-aged man next to the yogurt. Well, it was more like the man was talking, and Mandy was only standing there looking very uncomfortable.

“Who is that guy, Ian?” Yevgeny asked.

Ian shook his head and narrowed his eyes, “I don’t know.” He watched as the arrogant creep moved closer to Mandy, and she took a step back in response.

Without a second thought, Ian made his way quickly over to Mandy and he slipped his hands around her waist, before kissing her on the cheek.

Mandy startled and looked back, but relaxed when she saw it was Ian. She raised an eyebrow at him.

Ian winked at her, “Hey, babe, who’s your friend?”

The man, who had been arrogant before, now looked deflated and annoyed after hearing the word ‘babe’. He looked even more uncomfortable when he noticed Yevgeny staring up at him with his big blue eyes.

Mandy understood, and she smiled, “Oh, this is Marcus,” she explained, “He was just telling me about his motorcycle out front and wanted to know if I wanted a ride.”

Ian raised his brow, “Really?”

“Yeah, well, I was just- I mean, I- She actually-” the man stuttered, quickly trying and failing to come up with something on the spot.

Ian then let go of Mandy, stepping up to get in between her and Marcus, “Y’know, I like motorcycle rides.”

Marcus visibly gulped and stepped back, “You do? Well, I can only have one other person on.”

Ian gave him a cold smile, “It can just be you and me then.”

“No, I think that’s alright. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I also think it’d be a good idea to not hit on young women in a grocery store, while you still have your wedding ring on.”

The man nodded, clearly afraid, and then he turned on his heel and left.

“Thank god,” Mandy groaned, and then leaned into kiss Ian on the cheek, “I thought I was going to have to pepper spray that asshole.”

“Yeah, sorry about the ambush. It was the first thing I thought of.”

“Are you dating my aunt?”

Ian and Mandy turned to Yevgeny with surprise. Ian had forgotten Yevgeny was with them. His cheeks turned red as he coughed in his hand, while Mandy just laughed. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“We were just pretending, so that guy would leave me alone,” Mandy explained.

Yevgeny furrowed his brow, seeming to realize the situation, “Was he gonna hurt you?”

Mandy shook her head, “No. He just made me uncomfortable, buddy. I’m ok. It’s a good thing you and Ian were here to help.”

Yevgeny nodded, looking very protective, “Don’t worry, Aunt Mandy. I’ll get him if he comes back,” he growled.

Mandy covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

Ian smiled and patted Yevgeny on the shoulder. He was a good kid.

Yevgeny looked curiously up at Ian, “Do you have a girlfriend, Ian?”

Ian was taken aback by the sudden question, “Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

Mandy, noticing Ian’s flustered state, explained for him, “Yev, Ian dates boys, not girls, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Yevgeny nodded his head, “like daddy does.”

“Yeah, like your dad,” Mandy said, before looking at Ian and giving him a smirk.

Yevgeny turned to Ian, “So you have a boyfriend?”

Ian shook his head with a smile, “No.”

“You should date my dad then.”

Mandy barked out a laugh, while Ian just said, “You should tell him that.”

Mandy rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

Ian, Mandy, and Yevgeny, then made their way to the front to check out. When they got back to the Milkovich house, Yevgeny raced inside to wash his hands, while Mandy and Ian carried the supplies into the kitchen.

Yevgeny was already back and was observing all of the stuff Ian had brought over.

Mandy went back outside to grab something, and Ian was left with Yevgeny in the kitchen.

Yevgeny picked up the mixer and looked it over, with a sad, almost guilty expression, “Wow, you brought all this stuff to help me?”

“Yeah, man, I told you I would.”

Yevgeny’s eyes dropped, “Thanks.”

Ian gave him a curious look, wondering what happened to make the young boy so sad in a matter of minutes.

“Hey, Ian,” Yevgeny said in a small voice.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m sorry I stole your knife.”

Ian looked to him. He hadn’t even thought about that since he’d gotten it back, “It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean to steal it.”

“I took it to camp with me.”

Well that wasn’t good. Ian crossed his arms, “Oh, yeah?”

Yevgeny looked to the ground, “Yeah.”

“Wanted to show it off to your friends?”

Yevgeny shook his head, “S’for protection.”

Now, Ian was really worried. He crouched down to Yevgeny’s level, “What do you mean it was for protection? Do you feel unsafe at camp?”

Yevgeny shrugged, “Sometimes the kids are mean to me, but,” he looked up at Ian, “It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m scared,” he murmured.

“Scared? What are you scared of?”

“Everything.”

That hit Ian hard. He knew that the Southside wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be, but there still was a lot of dangers lurking around, and he could see how that could frighten a little kid. Yevgeny was only six, and he felt the need to carry around something sharp for protection. That was something Ian never had to worry about.

“I had a boxcutter,” Yevgeny explained, “I got it from daddy’s toolbox, but it wasn’t very sharp. There’s a boy who lives across from my mom, and he took it, and then his big brother broke it. I liked your knife, it made me feel safe. But then I saw your mommy gave it to you and I felt bad. If my mommy gave me something and someone took it, I’d be really sad.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Yev, but you don’t have to worry about me, ok? I’m not mad at you. Maybe don’t carry around sharp knives with you, ok? Especially ones that are illegal for you to carry.”

Yevgeny nodded, “Ok, Ian,” he said, and then he wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck and hugged him, “Thanks for not being mad.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, hugging Yevgeny back. Ian looked up to see Mandy staring at him with a sad smile. When Yevgeny let go, Ian said, “So, you wanna get started on those cupcakes now?”

“Yeah,” Yevgeny grinned.

“Ok, first we need to get everything out. Then we need to separate the wet ingredients and the dry ingredients into two separate bowls.”

“I want to help!” Yevgeny said excitedly.

“You got it. Do you know how to crack an egg?”

Yevgeny nodded.

“Ok, follow the recipe. Mandy will help with the measuring. I need the eggs, butter, milk, sour cream, and vanilla, mixed into one bowl.”

“I can do that,” Yevgeny said with a toothy grin, “When do we get to put in the sprinkles?”

“At the end, when we’ve got everything mixed together,” Ian said, and then started getting to work on the dry ingredients. He added the flour, salt, and sugar, baking soda, and baking powder. He started whisking the ingredients together.

“Ian, what’s that?”

Ian raised his eyebrow in confusion, and then looked down to what Yevgeny was referring to, “The whisk?”

“Yeah.”

“You use it to stir the ingredients, but we call that whisking, hence the name.”

“Can I try?”

Ian smiled at him, “Sure, go for it.”

Yevgeny accepted, and then started whisking the ingredients like Ian showed him, “Look, Aunt Mandy, I’m doing it!”

Mandy beamed at him, “I see that. Good job, Yev.”

With the three of them working, it didn’t take long for them to bake the cupcakes. Ian then showed Mandy and Yevgeny how to make the frosting, which fascinated Yevgeny to no end. He then brought the piping bag out with a star shaped tip and showed them how to put the frosting on.

Ian handed the bag to Yevgeny, while Mandy and Ian supervised. Yevgeny was on his seventh cupcake when Mickey walked in the door.

“Dad!” Yevgeny called out excitedly, “Look what I’m doing!”

Mickey made his way over to his son, and smiled, “Those look good, man,” he said, and then looked over to Ian, “Sup, Gallagher.”

“Hey, Mickey. You’re home early.”

“Brad closed the shop a couple hours early, because his wife is in labor.”

“Well, you’re just in time to help decorate cupcakes.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “Do I look like a fag to you?”

Ian rolled his eyes and decided not to comment. He turned away to start putting dishes into the sink.

When Ian turned back around, he saw Mickey smirk, and then dip his finger in the bowl to taste the frosting. Ian gasped and batted Mickey’s hand away, “Don’t do that.”

Yevgeny giggled, and then stuck his finger in the frosting as well.

“Yev!” Ian lightly scolded with a laugh. He looked to Mickey, “You’re a bad influence.”

Mickey shrugged.

“Do you like the frosting, dad? We made it ourselves.”

Mickey nodded, “It’s sweet,” he said, but lowered his voice when he passed Ian. He leaned in, almost touching Ian’s ear with his mouth, “I like’m sweet.”

Ian almost yelped when he felt Mickey pinch his ass. He quickly looked over to Mandy and Yevgeny, who were already distracted again on decorating the cupcakes. Ian wanted to say something, but Mickey was already shutting the door to his room.

They had finished decorating the cupcakes when Mickey came back out from his room, hair wet from the shower he took.

Ian smiled at him as he finished up the dishes. He watched as Mickey made his way over to him.

“Where’s Yev and Mandy?”

“Mandy took him outside to play with chalk.”

Mickey nodded, and then looked over at the cupcakes that were nicely plated in the middle of the table, “Those look good.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Ian warned, causing Mickey to flip him off.

They stayed silent for the rest of the time Ian was cleaning up. Mickey kept his distance, but Ian could feel his eyes on him. It was almost too much to bear. Ian had been trying to make Mickey jealous, and although it worked well at first, it still wasn’t where Ian wanted them to be. Hopefully, Mandy was right, and Mickey would eventually come around. Until then Ian guessed he’d have to suffer in silence.

“Thanks, I guess,” Mickey said finally, “For helping Yev with his cupcakes. It’s all he’s been talking about this week.”

Ian looked up at Mickey and smiled, “Yeah, they turned out really good.”

“Yeah, not like we had any of that fancy shit lying around, and Yev’s mom definitely doesn’t have it, so…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Ian furrowed his brow, thinking about what Yevgeny said to him earlier, “Hey, could I talk to you about something that might be out of line?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms, “That depends.”

“It’s about Yevgeny.”

Mickey’s brow furrowed, “What about Yevgeny?”

“It’s just,” Ian started, but didn’t know how to word what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “He told me that he took my knife to camp. He said he needed it for protection.”

“So, what?”

“So, what?” Ian echoed Mickey’s words, “Mickey, what he did was dangerous and illegal.”

“Don’t worry about it. I talked to him, and he won’t do it again.”

“Ok, but, Mickey-”

“What are you trying to say?” Mickey snapped, “What you think I’m a bad father? You gonna squeal on me to DCFS? Get my son taken away?”

Ian’s eyes widened at Mickey’s accusation, “No, I’d never do that. I think you’re a great father, Mickey. And the way Yev talks about his mom, I’m sure she’s great too.”

“Then what the fuck are you going on about?”

“It’s everything else that’s the problem,” Ian said, letting his words hang in the air.

Mickey sighed and leaned his back against the counter. He rubbed his face with his hands, “I know.”

“He told me kids pick on him sometimes at camp, and over at his mom’s. I just wanted to let you know.”

Mickey nodded, “Those brats he goes to camp with are either a bunch of rich kids whose parents wanted to move to an up and coming neighborhood, or little assholes whose parents can barely afford to send them.”

“He doesn’t have any friends there?”

“There’s Kev and V’s daughters, Amy and Gemma, but I don’t think he’s mentioned anybody else. He’s got friends around the neighborhood, and at school. I know he’s been having problems with the kids who live in his mom’s apartment building. I talked to Svetlana about it.”

“Where does she live?”

“West Englewood. She lives in a one-bedroom apartment with this guy she’s been seeing, Yvon,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “He’s like in his late forties.”

Ian made a face at that, but then he said, “It’s not just that. He told me he took my knife for protection. He said he was scared.”

Mickey looked very serious, “Scared of what?”

Ian shrugged, “He said everything. I don’t know what that means.”

“I do,” Mickey said, “What kid wouldn’t be scared living on the Southside?” he looked to Ian and motioned for Ian to follow him out the front door, “C’mon.”

Ian followed Mickey outside to where Yevgeny was playing with chalk. Ian went to stand by Mandy, while Mickey crouched down next to his son. Yevgeny looked up at Mickey and smiled.

Mickey didn’t beat around the bush, “So, Ian told me you’ve been getting picked on at camp and over at your mom’s. He said you took his knife cus’ you were scared.”

Yevgeny looked past Mickey to glare at Ian. Apparently, that was meant to be kept a secret. He looked back to his dad, “Maybe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, I didn’t want you to think I was a scaredy-cat.”

“Yev,” Mickey sighed in exasperation, “You gotta tell me these things. It’s ok to be afraid. How the fuck can you not be growing up around here? But you can’t just let things happen to you and not tell me, or your mom. Ok?”

“Ok,” Yevgeny nodded.

“Here,” Mickey said, standing up, “Get up.”

Yevgeny stood up.

“Let’s go to the back yard. I’m going to teach you some self-defense moves.”

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up, “Ok! Am I gonna get to body slam people like on WWE? Is this gonna be like fight club?”

“No,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “I’m not training you to kill somebody. This is for protecting yourself only. I don’t want to get a call that you went and broke someone’s leg or something like that.”

Yevgeny nodded, looking a little bit disappointed, but overall excited, “Ok, dad.”

Ian and Mandy shared a look, and then a shrug before following Mickey and Yevgeny out to the back yard. Ian and Mandy took a seat on the grass as they watched Mickey lead Yevgeny to the middle of the yard.

“Alright, first thing’s first,” Mickey said, “You do _not_ do anything I teach you, unless you are defending yourself or someone else. If someone’s picking on you either stand up to them by using your words or walk away. You’re not like all these other little pricks in the neighborhood, ok? We don’t hurt people. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. I’m gonna teach you how to block a punch, so pay attention.”

Yevgeny looked bored already, and he kicked the grass a little, “I wanna know _how_ to punch,” he said with a huff.

“Focus, Yev,” Mickey said, and then turned to Ian, “Gallagher, get over here.”

Ian got up from his spot and made his way over to Mickey, “Yeah?”

“How good are you at blocking punches?”

“Pretty good. I’ve been boxing since I was eleven.”

“Great,” he looked to Yevgeny, “Ok, Yev, watch closely. I’m gonna try to punch Gallagher in the face,” he informed, and then turned back to Ian, “You ready?”

“Wait what?” Ian barely had time for another thought when Mickey threw the first punch. Ian threw his hands up and effectively blocked it, causing Mickey’s fist to hit his arm. There wasn’t any real force behind the punch, but it surprised Ian nonetheless, “What the fuck, Mickey?”

“What?”

“Why did you try to hit me?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I told you I was going to.”

“I wasn’t ready!”

“You ready now?” Mickey asked and threw another one, which Ian blocked again.

“Quit it!”

“Alright,” Mickey said, and then turned to Yevgeny, “See how he blocked that? I want you to try it with me.”

Yevgeny nodded and put his hands up like Ian. They practiced blocking for about twenty minutes until Yevgeny started to groan, “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I wanna punch.”

“Fine, whatever,” Mickey said. He got into a fighting stance, “Put your feet like this. Keep your arms close and ball up your fists. Put your best fist back and tuck it like this. Keep your thumb on the outside of your knuckle and swing.”

Ian watched as Yevgeny practiced this for another five minutes, before Mickey told him it was getting late and to go in for a bath. Yevgeny nodded, and then hugged his dad and Ian before Mandy took him inside. Now, it was only Ian and Mickey.

Mickey pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He and Ian then did their ritual of sharing a cigarette between each other.

When it got back to Mickey, he took a drag, and then passed it back to Ian, “So, you really been boxing since you were eleven?”

Ian accepted it and nodded, “Yup.”

“Wow, your fancy private school had a club for boxing too?”

Ian shook his head with a laugh, “Nah, it was just something I wanted to learn. It helped me get through a few bullies myself.”

“I bet,” Mickey grabbed the cigarette from Ian, “You seem like the kind of guy who’d get his ass handed to him in school.”

“Were you that guy too?”

“Nah, I was the bully more times than not. I guess if there is such a thing as karma, then I’m definitely reaping what I sowed with Yev. He doesn’t deserve any of the shit he goes through,” he muttered, tossing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

“That isn’t your fault, Mickey. Kids are just assholes sometimes.”

“I guess.”

“Why did you do it? Bully people, I mean.”

Mickey shrugged, “I don’t know. I was an angry closeted gay kid, who was pissed at myself for being gay. I was in and out of juvie most of the time, and when I was home I got the shit beat out of me everyday by my bitch fucker of a dad, and that was before he even knew that I was a fag. Almost died for that one,” he chuckled with no humor behind it, “I guess I needed to get my anger out somehow, while also showing my dad that I wasn’t a pussy. I don’t know, maybe a lot of it was wanting control over something in my life, even though I was hurting other people. I didn’t really care, until I had a son. I wanted to be better for him.”

Ian watched him carefully. This was one of the few times Mickey had opened up to him about something personal. Ian found himself again wanting to protect Mickey, to comfort him, but he knew that Mickey didn’t want that. He didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. So, Ian just shrugged, “I bet I could have beat you up in high school.”

Mickey laughed at that, “Oh yeah, Muhammad Ali?”

Ian grinned, “Yeah, and I definitely could do it now.”

“Is that a challenge, Gallagher?”

“You tell me, Milkovich,” Ian said, stepping up to get in Mickey’s face.

Mickey smirked and then put Ian in a headlock.

Ian countered it easily, and then went to hit Mickey in the chest, but was blocked by Mickey’s arm. They kept sparring like that for a few minutes, and when one of them did manage to land a hit it wasn’t hard enough to do any type of damage. Ian did find it a little funny that if someone were to look in the yard, they would see two grown men play fighting.

However, things did get rough when Mickey landed one particular blow to Ian’s shoulder. Ian growled, and then side swept Mickey, causing the other boy to fall down hard on his back. When Mickey groaned, Ian crouched down to make sure he was ok, “Shit, Mickey, you alright?” Ian panicked.

Mickey sat up and pushed Ian backwards, where he now fell on his back with a thud. Mickey scrambled to get on top of him, pinning Ian’s hands to his side, “Hah, I win, bitch,” Mickey panted. However, his victory was short lived, when Ian got the upper hand by getting out of Mickey’s hold and flipping them over.

Ian sat firmly on Mickey’s hips, and then pinned Mickey’s arms over his head, “You sure about that?”

Mickey struggled for a moment, before finally giving in, “Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

Ian didn’t let go though. Both him and Mickey were panting hard, and Ian could feel Mickey’s erection against his thigh. He knew there was a zero percent chance of sex tonight, with Yevgeny being there, but that didn’t mean Ian couldn’t have a little fun.

“Would you get off of me now, douchebag?”

Ian grinned wickedly as he shook his head, “Don’t I get a prize for winning?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “What do you want?”

“A kiss,” Ian shrugged.

Mickey gave him an annoyed look, “Get off me, Gallagher.”

“No,” Ian said simply, “Not until I get my prize,” he murmured, and then leaned down to give Mickey a soft opened mouthed kiss on the neck. He gave another one on the underside of Mickey’s jaw. He even nipped at it a little, earning a gasp from the boy below him. Finally, he hovered over Mickey’s lip, getting closer as he bumped his nose against Mickey’s. His lips ghosted over Mickey’s as their breaths mingled together for a moment, and then Ian’s eye briefly caught Mickey’s. He caught a sudden wave of panic in Mickey’s eyes, before he was bucked off, falling off of Mickey and hitting the ground.

Mickey got up and dusted himself off.

Ian sat up and glared at Mickey, who started walking away. He rubbed the back of his head, “The fuck was that for?”

Mickey was already halfway to the house when he said, “Don’t ever let your guard down, Gallagher.”

Ian sighed as he continued to rub the spot where he hit his head. He watched Mickey make his way back into the house, and Ian wondered what the hell he was going to do with Mickey Milkovich.


	7. Like Father Like Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we got chapter seven here! Thank you as always for continuing to read this story and leaving kudos and nice comments, it means a lot :)

When Mickey returned home from work, it was late.

He had been busting his ass at work and was ready to just go home and relax. He’d hoped that Ian wasn’t there since he’d been over every day for the past two weeks. It was like he basically moved in, and it was pissing Mickey off.

When he walked through the door, however, he was greeted with Mandy sitting on the kitchen counter, dying her hair, and Colin and Iggy were sitting at the table. Ian was at the sink washing dishes.”

“Hey, Mickey,” Ian greeted with a smile, “I made dinner. There are leftovers in the fridge.”

“You made dinner?” Mickey eyed him suspiciously. When Ian nodded, Mickey felt something jump in his chest. He tried to push the unfamiliar feeling down, “Where’s Yevgeny?”

“Oh, I put him to bed already,” Ian said.

Mickey froze at that, “You what?”

Ian frowned a little, “He was tired, so I put him to bed.”

Mickey felt it again, that warm feeling in his chest. It wasn’t that Ian putting Yevgeny to bed was an offensive thing, but it made Mickey feel all sorts of ways. It bugged him. He knew Ian wanted more from him, that was obvious. Mickey didn’t want that, and it made his blood boil that Ian was trying to worm his way into his family. “Look,” Mickey snapped suddenly, “I don’t know what you think this is, but we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, ok?”

Ian blinked in surprise, “I know that, Mickey, but I was just trying to-”

“I don’t fucking care what you were trying to do. I don’t know where you got the idea that I’d start getting feelings for you, but it ain’t happenin’. You think I give a shit about you? You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me, and that’s it. The sooner you get that through your head the better.”

Ian looked taken aback, “Ok,” his voice wavered, as if he were about to start crying any minute, “I’ll just go then.” Ian moved past Mickey to grab his stuff and made his way to the front door.

“Ian wait,” Mandy said, grabbing Ian gently by the arm.

Ian smiled sadly at her, “It’s ok, Mandy. I’ll text you later,” he said, and then opened the door and left.

“Good riddance,” Mickey muttered when the door shut.

Mandy whirled on him, “What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

“What?”

“Why the fuck would you talk to him that way? All he was doing was cooking dinner and helping out with Yev. Why do you have to be such a prick all the time?”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I find it a little weird that the guy I’ve only been sleeping with for about two month is trying to move in and be all Mr. Mom.”

Mandy crossed her arms, “Oh, that is not the issue Mickey, and you know it.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re afraid just admit it,” she said getting closer to him, “You’re afraid to let him in. What, you think he won’t like you? You think he’ll leave?”

The question hit Mickey harder than he’d like to admit. He felt like he was suffocating, “You don’t know shit about anything. I don’t give a fuck about him, so I ain’t afraid of anything. You think I care if he leaves?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I don’t. Y’know, I don’t know why you even hang around him so much, he’s gay. He’s never gonna get with you.”

Mandy narrowed her eyes, “I don’t want to date him.”

“Then what is it then? Are you trying to make me jealous or something?” Mickey questioned, and knew he was correct by the look on Mandy’s face, “That’s it isn’t it? You’re trying to make me jealous. So, what you thought you’d pretend to be all buddy buddy with him to what, get back at me, hurt me? You thought I’d give a shit?”

Mandy laughed, “Oh my god, you are so stupid. You really don’t get it do you? I wasn’t using Ian to make you jealous or to get back at you for something, Mickey. Ian and I were hanging out because one, we’re friends, and two, it was to make you jealous of _me_. So, you’d want to spend more time with Ian.”

Mickey felt his breath catch in his throat. He tried really hard not to let the surprise show on his face. “Well, why the fuck would you do that?” he grumbled, acting as if the gesture was just an annoyance.

“Because I can tell you really like him too.”

“Fuck you, no I don’t.”

“Yes, you do! Ever since Ian’s been coming around, you’ve been happier. It’s honestly the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time. And I thought that maybe if you two got together, he’d be really good for you.”

“Well, here’s a tip, Mandy. How about stay the fuck out of my personal business. What I got going on with him has nothing to do with you.”

Mandy shook her head in disgust, “Ian deserves so much better than you. I told him that too, but he didn’t want to listen to me. He thinks you’re a great guy. I guess it really is his fault for not knowing better,” she said, and then ran past Mickey, pushing him hard, almost making him lose his balance. She ran to her room, and in a fit of anger Mickey followed her.

He was right on her heels but stopped short when she slammed the door in his face and locked it. He pounded on the door, “Mandy, open the fuck up!”

“Fuck you, Mick!” She yelled from the other side.

“Stop being a bitch!”

“Leave me alone! Why don’t you go to the Alibi and suck some rando off in the bathroom? That’s all you’re ever gonna be good for anyway!”

Mickey stopped, his chest heaving with anger. He was so pissed he couldn’t see straight.

“I just texted Ian!” Mandy taunted, “I apologized to him, saying you were the biggest asshole alive, and he said that it was ok, and he already knew that!”

Mickey kicked Mandy’s door hard in retaliation and put a hole in it. He ignored Mandy’s angry shouting, as he tried to get the ringing in his ears to stop. He turned around to see his brothers staring at him, “The fuck are you two looking at?!”

Iggy looked away, but Colin just stared wordlessly, slowly shaking his head in disappointment.

“What? You got something to say, Norman Bates?”

Colin crossed his arms.

“Jesus, stop staring at me, psycho!”

Colin sighed, “Mandy’s right. You really are the biggest asshole alive.”

Mickey flipped him off, and then went into his bedroom to check on Yevgeny. He was surprised to see his son had slept through all the noise. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Yevgeny sleep. After a while, Mickey started to feel the guilt set in. Yelling at Ian, getting pissed at Mandy, how he talked to his brother. Maybe he was the biggest asshole alive.

Mickey started to think about the time he’d spent with Ian, and soon saw that Ian was different then all the other guys he’d been with. He’d never let a guy he hooked up with even get near his family, let alone hang out with them at his house, but again Ian was different. Much to his upset and annoyance, Mickey started to realize that Mandy was right. He did like Ian. He liked Ian a lot.

With this new revelation in his mind, Mickey laid down next to his son and shut his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.

Mickey didn’t understand how colossally he fucked up, until he went to work the next day. From the time his shift started, Mickey had to put up with the most passive aggressive bullshit from Lip. He couldn’t do anything without Lip making a snide remark, or a jab at Mickey’s personality, or god forbid, one of his cocky eyerolls. Apparently, pettiness was a Gallagher family trait, and it made Mickey want to punch a hole in the other boy’s head.

The pettiness continued through lunch, and Mickey had endured enough. It wasn’t his fault Ian developed feelings for him, “Will you fucking knock it off?” Mickey griped, when Lip refused to hand Mickey a socket wrench, that was right next to him.

Lip wiped his hands with a rag, “Knock what off?”

“Fuck you, you know what I’m talking about. Look, it’s not my fault I hurt your brother’s feelings. He’s the one who wanted to get involved with me. I didn’t lead him on, I didn’t make it seem like we were going to be anything more than a hook-up. He put that in his own head, not me. So, will you stop being a bitch, and hand me the goddamn socket wrench?”

Lip laughed a little as he muttered, “Go fuck yourself.”

Mickey raised his brow, “Excuse me?”

Lip threw the rag to the ground, and stared right into Mickey’s stunned eyes, “Yeah, that’s right, excuse you, you arrogant piece of shit. Ian didn’t do anything to you but like you, and you treat him like he’s fucking dirt. You make him feel like a used-up whore, y’know? He’s a fucking human being, and you don’t even try to get to know him.”

Mickey felt something he hadn’t felt in a long while, and that was pure guilt. It wasn’t like the guilt he felt over arguing with Yevgeny, or accidently accusing Ian of lying to him, but a separate guilt that washed over him like a tsunami. He hadn’t felt like that since he missed the birth of his son because he was in prison, or when what had happened to Mandy finally came to the surface, which Mickey had chosen to push to the back of his mind for so many years, but when he finally couldn’t run away from the truth anymore, he broke down. Mickey didn’t know why he felt this specific guilt with Ian, but it fucking hurt. He felt like screaming, but he kept his cool, because he would be damned before he let Lip see him like that. Instead, he just said, “If I’m so bad, he can fucking leave. I’m not holding a gun to his head. He can stop banging me anytime he wants.”

Lips face contorted into anger as he moved closer to Mickey, “You don’t think I told him that? You don’t think I tried warning him about people like you? Do you know how it feels to watch your brother become heartbroken over a person who literally deserves none of his time? You have a guy who genuinely wants to be with you, and you sabotage it because you’re what scared? Is that what it is?”

Mickey moved closer to Lip, getting into his face, “You don’t know shit about me. I ain’t scared of nothin’. You wanna step up to me? You wanna act tough for your brother huh, pussy?” Mickey pushed him a little, “Go ahead, bitch, fight me.”

Lip didn’t move, even after Mickey pushed him. He shook his head, “I promised him I wouldn’t. I want to. I want to lay you out right now. I want to inflict every ounce of hurt you caused him back onto you, but I won’t. Because he asked me not to, and I love him more than I hate you,” he growled.

Mickey stayed where he was as he and Lip continued to stare each other down. Some of the other employees had stopped working and were now watching them. Mickey had a choice to make, which was either fight Lip, or walk away like some bitch. It didn’t matter how bad he felt about Ian, it didn’t matter that Mickey would get fired for starting a fight, and it didn’t even matter if he set a bad example for his kid. He had wanted to beat the shit out of Lip since day one, and at least now he could use the excuse that Lip instigated it by purposefully agitating Mickey, even if Lip himself refused to fight. Just one more word. He just needed the bastard to say one more word and he’d be done for.

The tension was high in the air. It was so poignant; someone could cut it with a knife. Mickey could feel himself, as well as the room, collectively hold their breath as him and Lip refused to take their eyes off each other. It was as if everyone were waiting to see what would happen, even Mickey himself wasn’t sure what would go down. He usually punched first and thought about it later. However, no one would find out, because in that moment, Eddie, the girl in charge while Brad was out on paternity leave, called out from the office.

“Milkovich, phone for you!”

Mickey didn’t take his eyes off Lip, “Tell’em I’m busy.”

Eddie just leaned against the door frame, “It’s your ex-wife. She said she’s been trying to get a hold of you for the past thirty minutes.”

“Tell her,” Mickey grit through his teeth, “that I’ll call her back later.”

“She said it’s about your kid. That it was an emergency.”

That made Mickey break his stare from Lip, and suddenly the room could breathe again. However, Mickey felt the air leave him completely. He made his way quickly to the office. When he picked up the phone he said, “What’s wrong with Yev?”

“Oh, it seems he finally has time to chat, hm?” a thick Russian accent said over the phone.

“Not fucking now, Svet, what happened? Is Yevgeny ok?”

“Physically yes, emotionally no. He’s been kicked out of camp.”

“What?” Mickey said, grasping the phone harder, “What do you mean he’s been kicked out?”

“He’s been kicked out. What part of that do you not fucking understand? If you answer phone, you would know this. Counselor calls, I call, but no answer. Thirty minutes I try your cell, and you give no fucks. Your son has been crying, you shit,” she spat.

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose, “Svetlana, just tell me what happened. I swear to god, I’m not in the mood right now for your bullshit.”

“He got into a fight. The children mock him. Little fat boy mocks him, he hit little fat boy, and now he’s kicked out.”

“Fuck, are you serious?” Mickey groaned.

“No,” she deadpanned, “I yank your dick because I am comedian. Yes, I’m serious, you stupid fuck. Camp counselor wants to speak to both parents. Unfortunately, that includes you.”

Mickey wanted to break the phone in half. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was to blame for Yevgeny getting into a fight. He wanted to hit something, he wanted to go postal, but then he heard his son’s soft cries over the phone, and then he tried to calm himself. Mickey sighed a very tired sigh, “Give me like five minutes. Tell them I’ll be there soon.”

“Fine,” she said, and hung up.

Mickey took a deep breath and put the phone back on the hook. He walked out of the office and over to Eddie.

She looked to him, “What’s up?”

“My son just got kicked out of summer camp. I need an hour, so I can go over there and sort this out.”

“Whatever,” she said, “But you’re staying an hour over to make up the time.”

“Fine,” Mickey said, and left the garage without sparing a glance to anyone, especially Lip Gallagher.

When Mickey arrived at the rec center, he went in through the gymnasium, since it was easier to get to the counselor’s office from there. When he walked through the doors, he heard two voices call his name. He looked up to see Amy and Gemma barreling towards him.

“Mickey, Mickey,” Amy said, hanging from Mickey’s arm, while Gemma attached to his other one.

He didn’t have time for this, but he wasn’t going to be a dick to two six-year-old girls, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Yevgeny got in trouble,” Amy said.

“He got into a fight,” Gemma said.

“Yeah? Do you know who with?”

“Caleb McConnell,” they both said in unison.

Mickey groaned internally. The McConnell’s were known for being close-minded, bigoted, assholes. Caleb was the youngest son of Dave McConnell, who once refused to get his motorcycle fixed by Mickey, because he ‘didn’t want his bike fixed by a fag’, and Dave’s dad used to do drug runs with Terry, before Terry got thrown in jail. All in all, a terrible fucking family that Mickey didn’t want to deal with. The only upside was Yevgeny beat a kid up that was Southside, which meant Mickey wouldn’t have to deal with yuppy parents threatening him with lawyers and calls to DCFS.

He looked down at the two girls, who were eyeing him expectantly, “Thanks,” he said.

“Is Yevgeny going to get in trouble?” Gemma questioned.

“I don’t know.”

“Is he going to go home?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know,” Mickey answered truthfully, “But, I gotta go talk to the counselor, so you guys go play.”

The two girls released their hold on Mickey and went back to what they were doing before.

Mickey then made his way to the head counselor’s office, where Yevgeny sat, tears staining his face. Svetlana was sitting in the chair next to him, petting his hair.

“Mr. Milkovich,” the head counselor greeted, “please have a seat.”

Mickey took the empty seat on the other side of Yevgeny, “Sorry,” he said, “I was working and didn’t hear my cellphone ring.”

“That’s alright, you’re here now,” the head counselor said.

Mickey narrowed his eyes, because he didn’t like the tone counselor, whatever the fuck his name was, used. Mickey was already ten seconds away from being set off, and he didn’t want the reason for his inevitable assault and battery charge, to be because some hippie with a ponytail pissed him off.

“Yeah, and I only got an hour, so let’s make this quick. What did he do?”

“Well,” the counselor said, folding his hands on the desk, “Yevgeny was caught in the act of a physical altercation. It seems that another one of our campers, Caleb, had said something to upset Yevgeny, and Yevgeny took it upon himself to correct the situation by using violence, instead of using his words or going to a counselor.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “Ok, what did the kid say to make Yevgeny hit him?”

The counselor cleared his throat, “It’s actually too inappropriate to say, but it didn’t warrant a violent reaction from Yevgeny, is what I’m trying to get at.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You call me down here saying my kid is kicked out of camp for hitting some other kid, because he was runnin’ his mouth, and you won’t even tell me what the kid said?”

The counselor scoffed, “Mr. Milkovich, I’m going to have to ask you to not use that sort of language in my office. Besides, that isn’t the point. The point is that your son acted with unnecessary violence, and there needs to be proper punishment set in place for his actions.”

“Wrong,” Svetlana said, “My Yevgeny has good judgment. If the little fat boy said something bad, then he needs to be taught lesson, no?”

“Not in a way that would harm somebody else,” the counselor chided, “Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’?”

Mickey crossed his arms, “You ever heard of the phrase ‘talk shit, get hit’?”

The counselor sighed, “Look, I can understand how this can be a confusing and frustrating time for Yevgeny, but his actions need to be met with the consequences. Unfortunately, that entails expulsion from this summer program. We have a strict no fighting rule set in place for a reason. The children need to know they’re in a safe environment.”

“A safe environment?” Mickey spat, “So, what? My kid is allowed to get picked on, so long as no one hits him. How is that not detrimental to his environment?”

“There are ways of talking things out with one another. It seems to me that Yevgeny has been conditioned to the atmosphere he grew up in and is emotionally not ready to interact with others until he figures out how to handle his emotions responsibly. I think a break would be best for everybody.”

Mickey raised his brow, because was this guy fucking serious? He looked to Svetlana who seemed to have the same reaction he did. He looked back at the counselor, “You callin’ us bad parents?”

“No, I’m not saying that exactly. However, when I was getting Yevgeny’s side of the story, he had mentioned he learned how to fight from you. So, there is concern in that.”

“I was teaching him how to defend himself,” Mickey snapped, standing up quickly from his chair, “Defend himself from the little assholes you have running around here!”

“Mickey,” Svetlana warned.

“No, Svet, fuck this shit. I’m not going to let some rat mustached, ponytailed, nineteen-year-old, tell me how to be a father. Do you have kids?” he questioned the now frightened looking counselor.

“No, I don’t.”

“Then don’t tell me how to raise mine,” he said, and then turned to Yevgeny, “And you. Thought you could just sit there all quiet and I’d just forget about you completely, huh?”

Yevgeny shook his head sadly, “No, daddy.”

“Well, explain yourself.”

His bottom lip started to quiver, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to? Bullshit you didn’t mean to. What did I tell you when I was teaching you all that shit, Yev? I told you not to use what I taught you to start a fight and look what happened.”

“You don’t understand!” Yevgeny cried.

“Then make me understand, Yev.”

“If I could interject,” the counselor started.

“You shut the fuck up,” Mickey warned, and then he crouched down to his son’s level. His voice was softer now, “Yevgeny, look at me. I want you to tell me what Caleb McConnell said to you. I want you to explain to me why you felt the need to punch him.”

“He said, he said,” Yevgeny cried even harder which caused Svetlana to crouch down beside Mickey.

Svetlana wiped the tears from her son’s faces as she waited patiently for Yevgeny to continue.

“He said that his papa said you were going to die from the gay disease.”

Mickey was taken aback, “What?”

“Yeah, Caleb said that all fags die from the gay disease, and he said that his papa said you were gonna get sent to hell, so I hit him,” he sobbed, “You’re not gonna die, are you dad? Please don’t die!” Yevgeny wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck and buried his face into his father’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Mickey soothed his son.

Svetlana stood up, her eyes filled with vengeful fire, “You call us in here for this?” she said to the counselor, “You punish Yevgeny for standing up to bully. You yell at him when he’s done nothing wrong. This is sick fun to you, yeah? You enjoy watching my son cry?”

“N-no.”

“You will punish fat boy for this?”

The counselor regained some of his composure, “Mr. McConnell’s parents have been contacted, and he’s waiting in the nurse’s office to be taken home. He’s been suspended for the rest of the day, and you will be receiving a letter of apology when he returns Monday morning."

“That’s it?” Mickey stood up, “Why doesn’t he get kicked out too?”

“Well, like I said before, Yevgeny used physical force as well as instigated the fight.”

“I think the kid that told him I was going to die from AIDS, instigated the fight,” Mickey countered.

“Look, I can understand the concern, but your son hit someone, and with Caleb, well, at the end of the day words are only words.”

“Oh, words are only words? Why don’t you sit here and tell that to my son who’s crying his eyes out?” he snapped. Mickey wanted to throttle the guy, but he kept his cool. Even though this place costed a fortune and it was filled with self-entitled assholes, it was still better than any other place Mickey could send his son. He needed to keep Yevgeny in this camp.

“Also, you don’t think words like that affect anybody?” Mickey slammed his hands on the desk, making the counselor jump, “Well, guess what, asshole? I’m actually gay, and I’m pretty fucking pissed about you letting my son be around a bunch of little homophobes,” he spat. Mickey hated pulling the gay card, but he felt like this was the only way he could probably guilt the counselor into letting Yevgeny stay at camp.

The counselor’s eyes widened, “Oh, are you? I just assumed…” he trailed off, looking to Svetlana.

Mickey held up his right hand, showing off his bare ring finger, “We’re divorced.”

“Oh,” The counselor said, looking very uneasy.

“Oh is right. You just gonna let these kids bash my son because his father’s gay? What if I walked in to pick him up and I was holding hands with a man? Am I gonna have to worry about my son being teased about that?” he pointed to Svetlana, “She’s bisexual. What if she came in with another woman? Same thing with my cousin Sandy, she’s gay. See this is the problem with you hippie pacifist types. You preach love and peace, but when someone is talking shit you want us to take the high road. Fuck that! You’re worried about what my son could do to the other kids, but Caleb McConnell can go around spouting hate speech whenever he wants. I should fucking sue you.”

The counselor looked up at Mickey, with shock, “Please don’t do that.”

“You gonna let my kid stay at camp then?”

The counselor sighed, “I’m sorry. Perhaps, I went about this the wrong way,” he glanced to Yevgeny, and then back to Mickey, “but our program really does have a no physical violence policy. I can’t break the rules, and I can’t in good conscious let your son continue to go here.”

Svetlana bit her lip nervously, she cleared her throat, “I saw an ice cream vender outside on my way in,” she turned to Mickey, “You and Yevgeny go get ice cream.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Ok?”

The counselor exchanged a glance between the two, “But, we still have to talk about-”

“Meeting is over,” Svetlana said with finality, “They go get ice cream, we stay and chat.”

Mickey finally understood what Svetlana was doing. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his son’s hand, “Let’s go get ice cream.”

“I’m not in trouble?” Yevgeny sniffled.

“No, you’re not.”

“Wait,” the counselor shook his head, “this isn’t up for negotiation.”

Svetlana smirked, “You will find I am good negotiator,” she said, and then turned to give a knowing wink to Mickey.

Mickey gave a slight nod, and then led Yevgeny out of the office, shutting the door behind him. He and Yevgeny walked through the hallway in silence. Mickey decided on walking out through the main entrance instead of through the gym, since he assumed Yevgeny wouldn’t want anyone to see he’d been crying. On their way out they passed the nurse’s office, which had the door wide open.

Mickey gave a quick glance and saw a tall chubby kid with an icepack over his face, who briefly removed it to reveal his busted-up nose.

“Fuck, you really did a number on that kid.”

“I may have hit him more than once,” Yevgeny muttered, causing the chubby boy to look up at Yevgeny in fear. Yevgeny just stuck his tongue out at him and flipped him off with both hands.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Mickey grumbled, pushing his son along.

When they got outside, Mickey scanned the area for the ice cream vender Svetlana was talking about. When he found it, he guided Yevgeny over to buy some. Mickey ordered cookies and cream while Yevgeny ordered mint chocolate chip, and when they received their ice cream, they went to sit on the concrete steps back over by the rec center.

They both sat in silence for a while, just eating their ice cream and watching the people go by. Finally, Yevgeny spoke, “Do you think mommy will get Keith to let me stay at camp?”

“Keith?”

“The counselor?”

 _‘Oh, so that was his name,’_ Mickey thought as he nodded, “Yeah, I think she can swing that. Your mom is really good at,” Mickey paused for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what he was going to say, “getting people to do what she wants.”

Yevgeny nodded, “Good, cus’ I really wanna stay. I like it there. It’s fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, except when kids are mean to me.”

Mickey looked to his son, “Why do you think that is?”

Yevgeny shrugged, looking sad, “I don’t know. I’m weird I guess.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Mickey questioned, “The way I see it, the world needs more weird people in it. It makes life more interesting.”

Yevgeny shrugged again, not saying a word.

“Y’know who also had bullies in school, and was considered an outcast?”

“Who?”

“Peter Parker. Flash Thompson kicked his ass every day, right?”

Yevgeny smiled a little and nodded. He looked up at his dad, “Were you ever bullied?”

Mickey shook his head, “I was more of a Flash Thompson, instead of a Peter Parker,” he admitted shamefully.

Yevgeny’s eyes widened, “Why?”

“Because I didn’t like myself. That’s why most people bully. They don’t like who they are, or how they’re living, so they get angry, and then they take their anger out on somebody else. It’s wrong though, I was wrong.”

“But I hit Caleb. Does that make me a bully, cus’ I fought him?”

“No, it doesn’t, because you were standing up for me. See there are two types of people who fight, bullies, and people who fight bullies.”

“But you told me never to hit, even if they say mean things.”

Mickey nodded, “That’s true, and usually you shouldn’t, but this is an exception cus’ we stick up for our family, right?”

“Right.”

“Look, next time Caleb or anybody says some shit, just tell’em to fuck off. There are gonna be kids and people in this world who won’t like who I choose to date, or who your mom chooses to date. Those are small minded people. They’re bullies, and sometimes we just got to not let them get to us. Besides, if your mom can convince them to let you stay, we’re on thin fucking ice anyway. So, just try to lay low.”

“Ok, I’ll try,” Yevgeny said, “Dad, do you think bullies ever stop being bullies?”

“Maybe. I mean I did.”

“I guess,” Yevgeny muttered.

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were being a bully to Ian last night,” Yevgeny pointed out.

Mickey sighed, “You heard that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought you were asleep.”

“I was faking.”

“Yeah, I was being a bully. That was wrong of me wasn’t it?”

Yevgeny nodded, “You shouldn’t be mean to him just cus’ you have a crush on him.”

Mickey choked on his ice cream, “What? What makes you think that I have a crush on him?”

Yevgeny looked at him like he was saying, ‘c’mon, dad. It’s pretty obvious’.

“I don’t have a crush on him. I don’t even like him that much. He’s your aunt’s friend, not mine,” Mickey lied.

Yevgeny saw right through it, “Liar liar, pants on-” Yevgeny stopped suddenly, trying to think of the rest of the rhyme, “you’re a liar!”

“Not how that goes. Also, don’t call me a liar. I bought you ice cream.”

“Liar ice cream,” Yevgeny muttered to himself.

“Ok, smarty pants, if I did like him, what do you think I should do?”

Yevgeny let out an exasperated groan, “Talk to him, dummy! And then go and tell him you love him and that you wanna be with him forever and ever, and then get married, and then kiss him like this!” Yevgeny turned around and wrapped his arms around himself, moving them up and down and making kissy noises.

Mickey shouldn’t have expected much of an intelligent response from a six-year-old, but there was something valuable out of that almost incoherent speech, and that was talk to him. “Ok, ok,” Mickey said, causing his son to turn back around, “I’ll talk to him. I ain’t doin’ any of that other shit though.”

“Is Ian gonna be your new boyfriend?”

“No,” Mickey said quickly, as he heard the doors to the rec center open. He turned around to see Svetlana walk out.

Yevgeny jumped up and hugged his mother’s leg, “What did he say, mommy?”

She smiled brightly at him, and kissed his head, “He said you can stay. No more fighting though, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Great,” Mickey said, getting up from his spot. However, he leaned in, so that only Svetlana could hear him, “Hope you brushed your teeth before you kissed our son’s head.”

Svetlana rolled her eyes, “I carry mouthwash for this reason. I was worried though, almost thought he wouldn’t go for it.”

“Why?”

“He gave my gay boy vibes.”

“Thank god he wasn’t,” Mickey said, “then I would have had to blow him.”

Svetlana gave Mickey a smirk, and then she looked down at her son, “Did you enjoy your ice cream?”

“Yup!”

“I’ll take him by your house,” she said to Mickey, “You go back to work. Anyone home?”

“Sandy should be.”

Svetlana nodded, “Say goodbye to your father,” she said to Yevgeny.

“Bye, dad,” Yevgeny said, as Mickey pulled him into a hug.

Mickey then let go and watched Svetlana and Yevgeny walk away. He waited a moment before he got back to his truck, thinking about how he was going to get a hold of Ian.

Mickey arrived back at the shop, only being gone for forty-five minutes. When he entered the garage, he was surprised to see Ian there, talking to Lip. He locked eyes with the older Gallagher, which caused Ian to turn around.

“I’ll see you later,” Ian said suddenly to Lip.

“Ok, yeah. See you at home.”

Mickey watched as Ian quickly walked past his without making eye contact. He looked to Lip, who was working on a bike.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Mickey said, picking up a wrench. He stared at the bike for a moment, before muttering, “Fuck.” He put the wrench down and ran back out of the garage to catch up with Ian. Mickey caught Ian right as he was starting up his car. He startled the redhead when he knocked on the window.

Ian looked at Mickey, probably trying to decide whether to hear him out or drive a way. Finally, he rolled the window down, “What do you want, Mickey?”

Mickey blanked, because what _did_ he want? He cleared his throat, “You comin’ around my work now?” he questioned, and then mentally kicked himself. Why did he have to be an asshole all the time?

Ian rolled his eyes, “I was dropping off lunch for Lip since I was already on the Southside, volunteering at the youth shelter. Not everything revolves around you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Lip told me you were out for an hour because something happened to Yevgeny. Is he ok?”

Mickey nodded, “He’s fine. He got into a fight with some kid and they almost kicked him out. We got it covered though.”

“Did he get hurt?”

Mickey shook his head, “You should see the eight-year-old he fucked up. He got’em good.”

“That’s good,” Ian nodded, and then a silence fell between them. Finally, Ian said, “Well, I should get going. Don’t want to waste anymore of your time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey said, rubbing the back of his head. He watched Ian start to roll up his window before he said, “Gallagher, wait.”

Ian stopped, “Yeah?”

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said last night. I was just overwhelmed with everything and I took it out on you.”

Ian raised his eyebrow, “Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah, man, overwhelmed. I’m overwhelmed with work, bills, Yevgeny, my family, _you_.”

Ian looked taken aback, “Me?”

“Yeah, you, idiot.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t even like me. What do I do that overwhelms you?”

Mickey groaned, “Of course I fucking like you, man. That’s the problem,” he said, but stopped suddenly, because he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Ian stared back at him shocked, “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Mickey snapped, feeling the blood rush to his face. He was getting angry.

“Mickey.”

“Fuck! I like you, ok?! And- and I’m fucking overwhelmed by it! There are you happy?!”

Ian gave Mickey a small smile, “I like you too.”

Mickey wanted to punch the sickly-sweet smile right off of Ian’s face, but he only sighed, “Look, if you want, we can go grab drinks at the Alibi tomorrow. No bathroom sex, not ten-minute hook-up behind the bar. We’ll just hang out, maybe shoot some pool.”

Ian’s smile got wider, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Fuck you, is what I asked you to. It’s not a date, we’re just hanging out. Got it, Gallagher?”

Ian nodded, with that stupid grin still plastered to his face, “So, we’ll get some drinks, maybe grab something to eat later.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“We gonna have sex back at your place?”

Mickey let out an exasperated sigh, “Yeah, I guess if that’s what you want, man.”

“Ok, but that’s the literal definition of a date,” Ian argued.

Mickey was going to hit him in his smug bastard of a face, “Fuck off,” he snapped, “Do you want to get together tomorrow or not?”

“Ok, ok. Man, you really know how to charm a guy,” Ian laughed, “So, what made you change your mind?”

“About what?”

“Me.”

Mickey shook his head, “Never changed my mind about you, Gallagher. But if you must know, Yevgeny convinced me to talk to you.”

“Smart kid.”

“He is, and he really likes you too,” Mickey added, not really understanding why, but it was important to him that Ian knew that.

“I like him too, Mick. I like all of your family.”

The way Ian said that made Mickey’s heart jump, and his insides twist. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, “Well, alright then. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Ian grinned, “on our date,” he added.

“Not a date,” Mickey called back, already having turned around and walking back towards the garage.

Mickey didn’t have to look back to know Ian had that stupid smile of his slapped onto his face. He walked into the garage as Ian drove away. He went back over to Lip, who was still working on the bike.

Lip didn’t say anything until Mickey picked the wrench back up, “No black eye,” he observed, “I’m guessing your conversation went well?”

Mickey looked at him, trying to figure out if Lip was fucking with him or not. Mickey shrugged, “We settled things.”

“Great,” Lip rolled his eyes, “Gonna go back to just fucking him and leaving?”

Mickey clenched the wrench in his hand, “Actually, we’re going to hang out at the Alibi tomorrow. No hooking up unless he wants to.”

Lip looked up at him mildly surprised, “He got you to agree to that?”

“I asked him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lip laughed a little, which made Mickey’s brow shoot up.

“What?”

Lip shrugged, “Nothing. You just don’t peg me as the type to ask people out on dates.”

“Not a date,” Mickey snapped, “We’re just hanging out. Beer, maybe go get a pizza, maybe watch a movie later,” Mickey shrugged.

“Sounds like a date to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey grumbled, not wanting to argue about it anymore.

They both went back to working in silence.

When it was almost time to close, Mickey was putting up the tools, while Lip was wiping down the bike he was currently finishing up. It was relatively slow, and Mickey was grateful for the peaceful lull at the end of his shift, especially since he’d have the next two days off. He was also grateful for Eddie, who told him to forget about working an hour over since business was so slow. It was almost time to clock out when a certain long-haired blonde walked through the garage.

“Oh, great,” Mickey muttered, as he watched Tami Tamietti stand there, looking around. Tami was, in Mickey’s opinion, a frigid bitch. She was one of the younger sisters of Cami, and Brad’s sister in law. She was also friends with Mickey’s cousin and sister, much to his annoyance.

Mickey silently hoped she wouldn’t come over and talk to him, but his prayers were already squashed when she noticed him staring.

Tami made her way over to the two boys, “Hey, Milkovich,” she called out.

“Christ, fuck me sideways,” Mickey muttered, “The fuck you want?” Mickey said to Tami.

“Cami needed me to pick up her and Brad’s paycheck.”

Mickey looked at her confused, “Ok? Then go get it.”

Tami rolled her eyes, “Wanna show me where they are, asshole?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a dick,” Tami said, and then scrunched up her nose, “god you smell like motor oil and B.O.”

“What, and that surprises you? This is a bike shop, genius.”

“No, but I am still surprised Cami and Brad hired a convict like you to work around expensive power tools,” Tami crossed her arms.

“Yeah, well they’re pretty lax, considering they have a ‘no animals allowed’ sign, and you get to waltz in here whenever you want,” Mickey shot back.

“Whatever,” Tami huffed.

“I could show you where they keep the checks,” Lip offered, but Tami just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, ok,” she said in a tone that made it very clear she wouldn’t be taking Lip up on that offer, or any offer to go anywhere with him any time soon. She looked past the boys, scanning the area until she found Eddie, “Hey, Eddie, I’m here for Brad and Cami’s paychecks.”

Eddie nodded, “They’re in the office. I’ll show you.”

Tami walked past Mickey and Lip without giving them a second glance. When she disappeared into the office, Lip let out a low whistle.

“Who was she?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“What’s her name?”

Mickey looked to him, and almost laughed at the expression of desire on Lip’s face. There was no way Lip would ever have a chance with Tami. She was as bitchy and uptight as Lip was an arrogant asshole. He might have been able to score with Cami’s sister Cori, since Cori would fuck anybody. Mickey remembered dodging her advances until he had to explain that unless she was packing nine inches, he wasn’t interested. However, Tami was a different beast all together. And Mickey literally meant beast because he kind of couldn’t fucking stand her.

“Don’t even try it, college boy. She’s not gonna fuck you.”

Lip raised an eyebrow, “Oh, did you already call dibs?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Funny. No, I mean she wont fuck you, because she’s not like those dumb little college co-eds you’re used to banging. She’s a lot more tactical and a lot more high maintenance.”

Lip crossed his arms, “Her name, Mickey.”

Mickey sighed, “Her name’s Tami. She’s Cami’s sister.”

Lip looked at the office door and nodded with a small smile on his face. He looked back to Mickey, “What?”

“Nothin’, man,” Mickey scoffed.

“You really think I can’t get her to go out with me?”

“No, I don’t. Look, I’m sure up on the Northside you’re some kind of hotshot, but down here that don’t mean shit. Tami’s not going to care that you drive a really nice car, or go to some fancy college, or that you’re basically Albert Einstein. She doesn’t get impressed over stupid shit like that.”

“What does she get impressed over?”

“Nothing you have to offer.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“I don’t even know why you wanna go out with her. She’s a fucking bitch.”

Lip shrugged, “Well, I mean she’s pretty, and funny. Plus, she seems to hate you. What’s not to like?”

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” he grumbled as he saw Tami walk back out of the office.

Lip watched as she got closer to him and Mickey. He cleared his throat, “Hey, so-”

“No,” Tami said, shutting Lip down immediately. She didn’t even look in his direction as she walked up to Mickey.

“The fuck do you want now?”

Tami rolled her eyes, “I just wanted to let you know that Mandy, Sandy, and I are going out tomorrow night.”

Mickey vaguely remembered Sandy saying something about that. He gave her an annoyed look, “Why should I care?”

“Oh, I’m just telling you in advance that I’ll be over at your place, so this time I won’t have to walk into your house and get scarred for life like I did on New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, will you let that go!” Mickey snapped.

“No, I won’t!” she snapped back, “Because I think it would be traumatizing for anybody to walk into your house and see you passed out on the couch naked, next to an opened bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a Playgirl magazine!”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about it, because I probably won’t be at the house when you’re there anyway.”

Tami scoffed, “What do _you_ have to do on a Saturday night?”

“He’s going out on a date with my brother,” Lip offered.

“Not a date,” Mickey said for the fourth time.

Tami laughed, “What is he blind?”

“Fuck off.”

“Since when do you date?”

“Since never, because it’s not a fucking date.”

“Well, whatever it is, keep it confined to the bedroom,” Tami said, making Mickey flip her off.

Mickey wasn’t going to listen to Tami’s or Lip’s bullshit anymore. He knew what he was about, and where he stood on dating, and what Ian and Mickey were doing was not a date. He was definitely not going on a date with Ian Gallagher. Right?


	8. Maybe I Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, chapter eight is here! A couple things about this chapter. One, this chapter is a little bit longer than my other ones which is why it took me a little bit longer to write it. Two, this chapter has a few warnings that come along with it such as: mentions of heavy physical abuse, mentions of underage prostitution, there's a specific scene with heavy homophobic language, and slurs against Russian people. So, I just wanted to warn you about that. Also, thank you for the kudos and comment, and thanks for reading!

Ian didn’t think this was how he was going to spend his Saturday afternoon.

He had been getting dressed for his date with Mickey when he’d gotten a call from Trevor. Apparently, Geneva and another one of the girls who stayed at the youth shelter got into a fight, and they needed medical attention. Nothing serious, but Trevor liked calling Ian for minor medical help like this. It saved him money.

Ian, of course, accepted. The shelter was something Ian was very passionate about, and when Trevor had come to him with the idea, wondering if Ian would like to fund it, Ian jumped at the opportunity. It was good to give back to his community, plus he’d do anything to help Trevor.

When Ian had been discharged from the Army, he had no intentions on going back to his family. He had been given an entry-level discharge, which meant he couldn’t even make it through basic training. This caused him to go on a downward spiral of stripping, homelessness, and cocaine, lasting three months. Even though it was running him into the ground, Ian was adamant on not going home. That was until one night, when he had passed out in the snow outside of the club he was working at. Luckily, Trevor found him and brought Ian to his apartment before he froze to death. When Ian had finally woken up, he was sober, and Trevor convinced him to contact his family. Apparently, they had found out he’d been discharged, and were looking for him.

Now, Ian and Trevor were friends. Trevor had left Ian his number before he went back home, and Ian contacted him after he’d gotten balanced out on his meds. It had taken a lot for Ian to even admit he had a problem, let alone be comfortable enough to get a diagnosis and medicate himself, but that was a story for another time. 

Once he got into his car, he texted Mickey to tell him he might be a little late. He didn’t know how long this would take. Trevor wasn’t specific over the phone. When Mickey replied back by saying, _‘All good. Gotta drop Yev off at his mom’s anyway,’_ Ian smiled, and then made his way down to the Southside.

When he got to the youth shelter it was almost six o’clock. He walked to Trevor’s office with his first aid kit to be greeted by Carl, who was standing between the two girls, Geneva, who was holding a frozen bag of peas over her eye, and the other girl, Allison, who was holding a rag over her hand. Trevor was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Ian looked to him, “Wanna explain what happened?”

He sighed, letting his curly brown hair fall into his face, “Why don’t you take a wild guess.”

Ian smirked, “Boys?”

Trevor rolled his eyes, “Yeah. Now, I have one kid with a black eye, and another one with stab wound on her hand. All because of some greasy nineteen-year-old, who works at Taco Bell.”

Ian gave Trevor a worried look, “Stab wound?”

“Why don’t you ask your little groupie over here about that?” he motioned over to Geneva.

Ian raised a brow at her, “Geneva?”

“I may have stabbed her with a fork,” she mumbled.

Ian’s eyes widened, “You what? A fork? Really?”

Geneva crossed her arms and huffed, “It wasn’t even metal.”

“Yeah, because that makes it better,” Trevor said.

Ian sighed, and opened his kit. He looked to Allison, “Ok, you’re up first. Let’s take a look at that hand.”

Allison shuffled over to him, avoiding eye contact with Geneva, who was glaring daggers at her. She sat down in one of the chairs, while Ian pulled up another one to sit in front of her.

He gently unraveled the rag to reveal the bloody wound. He then proceeded to clean the hand, trying extremely hard not to get blood on his nice shirt. He then grabbed some gauze to wrap it up. The whole process took about ten minutes. He looked at the clock, still hoping he’d be able to make it to the Alibi by seven.

“Ok,” Ian said, as he finished wrapping up Allison’s hand, “Looks like we’re all done here.”

“Thanks, Ian.”

Ian looked to Geneva, “Ok, you’re next.”

Geneva came to sit across from Ian, who started dabbing the cut under her eye with hydrogen peroxide, “Ow, fuck,” she hissed.

“Well, it’s going to sting,” Ian said gently.

“Let that sting be a reminder next time you decide to do something stupid,” Trevor said, with his back still against the wall, “I don’t know what made you two think what you did was ok, but you both know the rules. No fighting. This is supposed to be a safe space for everyone.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have to fight, if somebody didn’t go around and sext my boyfriend behind my back,” Geneva snapped, looking at Allison.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” Allison crossed her arms, “and we weren’t sexting, only texting. Besides, you can’t just call dibs on a guy you’re only talking too.”

“We were going to make it official! Also, yes, I can. That’s like the rule.”

“No, it isn’t, you jealous psycho cunt,” Allison spat back, causing Geneva to lunge forward out of her seat to get to her. Allison sprung up ready to fight as well.

“Hey!” Ian held Geneva back, while Carl put his hand on Allison’s shoulder to stop her.

“You knew I liked him!” Geneva cried, kicking out at Allison.

“So?! It’s not like he was going to date you!”

“Ok, girls, enough!” Trevor said in a firm voice, causing both girls to go still, “Thank you.”

Ian sighed and looked to Allison, “Look, ok, I get it. You both like the same boy, but Geneva is right. It was wrong to flirt with him when you knew Geneva liked him.”

“Ha!” Geneva grinned at a scowling Allison.

Ian turned his attention to Geneva, “However, that does not give you the right to stab Allison in the hand with a plastic fork. I shouldn’t even have to tell you that,” Ian said incredulously.

Geneva bit her lip and looked down at the floor in shame.

“Hey, chin up,” Ian said in a more gentle tone as he raised up Geneva’s chin so he could continue to fix up the cut on her face, which was caused by the rings on Allison’s left hand. When he finished, he stood up, “Ok, you two should be good. Allison, just keep that bandage on and the wound should heal on its own, no stitches required. Geneva, remember to ice that eye, ok?”

They both nodded and mumbled, “Thanks, Ian.”

Trevor pushed himself off the wall and opened his office door, “We’ll talk about this incident more in our group therapy session tonight. Ok, guys?”

They both groaned, “Do we have to?” Geneva questioned.

“Yes, you do. It’s good to talk these things out,” he said as the two girls sulked out of his office, “No more fighting.”

Allison and Geneva grumbled a ‘fine’ and ‘whatever,’ before they were completely out of earshot.

“Thanks, for your help, Carl,” Trevor clasped Carl on the shoulder, “Don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to intervene.”

“No problem, man,” Carl said as a loud crash came from the other room.

Trevor just groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Mind keeping an eye on them?”

Carl nodded, “Yeah, I got it,” he said and walked out the door.

Trevor sighed and went to sit at his desk, “Thanks for coming by on such short notice.”

“Hey, no big deal. I need all the practice I can get. Besides, I was going to be in the area anyway.”

“Got a big date tonight?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Ian confessed.

“Well, you were just dressed up nice. I assumed-”

“Yeah, I assumed too,” Ian said, sounding a little disheartened. He kept telling himself that Mickey wouldn’t have asked him out if it wasn’t a date, despite the other boy’s protest of it being anything but. However, Ian was starting to doubt, and started thinking that maybe this was just another pit that Ian was going to fall into with Mickey.

“Oh no,” Trevor said, “I know that tone. What’s wrong?”

Ian shrugged, “Just the guy I’ve been seeing. He’s sending me mixed signals.”

Trevor nodded, “Close the door, and have a seat.”

Ian followed Trevor’s instructions, and then sat anxiously while Trevor looked him up and down, probably trying to guess the problem just by Ian’s body language.

“So,” Trevor folded his hands on his desk, “You’ve been seeing someone new?”

Ian groaned rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t know if I’d even call it that, man. He’s the most baffling guy on the planet. First, he acts like he doesn’t want me, but I can see in his eyes that he does. He’ll get close to me in private but push me away in public. He does things to make me leave, but then apologize the next day so I’ll stay. It’s all so confusing. I just wish he’d tell me what he wants, plain and simple,” Ian admitted.

“Well, you haven’t been known for going after simple guys, Ian.”

Ian glared at his friend, “I thought counselors are supposed to make people feel better?”

“Well, that depends. Am I talking to you as a counselor, or as a friend?”

“A friend I guess,” Ian mumbled.

“Fine then,” Trevor smirked as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “So, what’s the guy’s name? He live around here?”

“Yeah, he does. His name is Mickey Milkovich?”

Trevor’s eyes went wide, and he leaned his chair forward, “Milkovich? You’re dating a Milkovich, are you serious?”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “Dating is a strong word, but yeah. Do you know him?”

“Not him personally, but I’ve dealt with his family. I can’t believe you’re getting it on with a Milkovich.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes, Ian, that’s very bad.”

“Why?”

“Other than the fact that they’re known homophobes, and the Southside’s resident fag bashers, they’re involved with a lot of shady shit. They’re criminals, Ian. Also, they’re hated by almost everyone, especially cops and social workers. You don’t even want to know the horror stories I’ve heard from my older colleagues who’ve had to go down to a Milkovich house for home visits. I’ve dealt with some of them on multiple occasions, and if they’re not beating the fuck out of me for being queer, then they’re stealing my wallet.”

Ian felt the need to immediately defend Mickey and his family, but he remembered that he only knew a little bit of Mickey’s family, and they had a lot of cousins and uncles, and then there was Mickey’s dad, who seemed like an awful person just by what Mandy and Mickey had told him alone. However, he still felt like he needed to jump to the defense of at least Mickey and Mandy, “I don’t think they’re all like that.”

“Oh, you don’t think they’re all like that? Every Milkovich has fag bashed at least once. It’s like a rite of passage. I’m sure the guy your fucking has done it too.”

Ian didn’t know what to say to that. Mickey himself had even said he used to bully and beat people up because of his internalized homophobia. Ian knew that had to be rough, but he also knew it was no excuse, and he knew Mickey knew that too.

“I just can’t believe there is a Milkovich out there that’s actually gay,” Trevor said in amazement, “You think I would have heard about it.”

“His cousin Sandy is gay too,” Ian pointed out.

“Wow,” Trevor shook his head, “Can’t believe they actually came out, and lived to tell the tale.”

Ian let out an uncomfortable laugh, “You don’t think their family would actually kill them for being gay, do you?”

Trevor gave him a look that was absolutely bone chilling, “They’ve killed some of their family members for a lot less.”

Ian thought Trevor was being a little over dramatic, but then he remembered something Mickey had told him. That when his father found out he was gay, he almost killed him for it, but Ian thought he was just being hyperbolic, “Fuck,” Ian whispered, suddenly feeling a chill run down his spine.

“See, Ian? They’re bad people.”

“No,” Ian said defiantly, “Mickey isn’t a bad guy, and neither is his sister Mandy. His brothers are a little questionable, but they don’t care that Mickey’s gay. Their dad’s an asshole though, both Mickey and Mandy have told me that.”

“Who’s their dad?”

“I don’t know.”

“You got this guy Mickey’s street address?”

Ian nodded and gave Trevor the address. He didn’t feel reassured when Trevor gave him a look that said, ‘are you fucking kidding me, Ian?’ It was evident that Trevor knew exactly who owned that house. Ian tried to feign ignorance, “You know that place?”

“That’s Terry Milkovich’s house. The guy you are fucking is Terry Milkovich’s son.”

“Is- is that bad?”

“Yeah, it is. That guy is pure fucking evil, Ian,” Trevor sighed, “You’re lucky he’s in prison. That probably explains why your fuck buddy isn’t six feet underground yet.”

Mickey had mentioned that night they were playing pool at the Alibi that his dad was gone. He didn’t specify where, but all Ian knew was that the guy wasn’t dead. He understood why Mickey wouldn’t want to tell Ian anything about his father. The fact that Mickey and Mandy had to grow up in that environment at all, made him sick to his stomach.

“He’s not like his father, Trevor, believe me. He’s a good person, albeit rude as hell and kind of a dick, but I really like him, and it feels like I’m going in circles with him. I just want this to start going somewhere, and I need some advice.”

Trevor nodded reluctantly, “If you say he’s on the up and up, then I believe you. Though, obviously he’s doing something wrong if he has you this upset.”

“He’s just so fucking complicated. It’s like we’ll be going good, and then I’ll do something that pisses him off and he’ll yell at me. Then he’ll come back and apologize. I mean, why does he do that?”

“I think the real question is, why do you let him?”

“What?”

“If he is so complicated, why don’t you drop him? I’m sure there are other guys you can get with, Ian. Why do you let Mickey keep reeling you in when he casts you out?”

“I-” Ian stopped. He thought about it, and at first, he really didn’t know. He thought about all the times Mickey pushed him away, or snapped at him for something stupid, and Ian realized that even though it hurt, he liked being able to break through Mickey’s impenetrable walls, even if it was only little by little. Everything had always come so easy to him, but Mickey wasn’t like that. Mickey didn’t care about how much he made or who his family was. Ian had lived being taken advantage of almost his whole teenage life. Whether it was old men propositioning him at his family’s country club, or dancing as a stripper in boy’s town, he never got to choose his partner, they chose him, they always chose him. However, that first night at the bar, he chose Mickey, and Ian didn’t want to give up on him, because no matter how much Mickey wanted to push back, Ian could tell he liked him too.

“Ian?” Trevor said gently, bringing Ian out of deep thought.

“I like him. I- I really like him. Nobody wants me to be with him though because nobody likes him. Nobody believes in him or thinks that he’s a good person like I do. He’s misunderstood. Fuck, maybe I deserve to get yelled at, since I’m so goddamn pushy.”

“Ok, no,” Trevor said.

“No?”

“Yeah, no, I’m shutting this down right now,” he said, looking Ian straight in the eyes, “Now, Ian, you and I both know you have a tendency to let people use you, because you feel like that’s all you’re good for. That stems from a long history of being emotionally and sexually manipulated by men.”

Ian shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “I guess.”

“Ian, this is just like what happened with the last guy you were with. You let him cheat on you for years, because you felt like your bipolar disorder was the reason he was doing it. No, the reason he cheated on you is because he’s a piece of shit. This guy Mickey might not be physically abusing you or cheating on you, but he’s making you feel that being an asshole to you over and over again and hurting your feelings is normal, when it’s not.”

“He’s got a lot going on,” Ian argued, “He says I overwhelm him.”

“Oh, he has a lot going on? So, do you, Ian. I do too. Everyone has problems. He doesn’t get special treatment because he has ‘a lot going on’. If you overwhelm him so much, he doesn’t need to be with anyone right now.”

“Well, yeah, he told me that. He says he doesn’t want to be with me romantically, but I can tell that he does. He pushes me away, and then he pulls me back in. His sister says he likes me, but Mickey doesn’t want to admit it. It’s making me so confused.”

“Have you talked to him about any of this?”

“Well, no,” Ian said, “but, it’s because he’s very socially inept, and I don’t know how he’ll react. His sister and I were trying to make him jealous, but that kind of blew up in my face.”

“Ok, how old is he?”

“A couple years older than me I think.”

“So, like an adult right?”

Ian knew what Trevor was getting at now, “Yeah.”

“Look, since you vouched for him, I’m going to give this guy the benefit of the doubt and assume he doesn’t realize how much he’s hurting you, or the extent of his effect on you. But you need to put away the childish behaviour and talk to him like an adult. You’re meeting him tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell him how he’s making you feel. Tell him what you want. If he doesn’t want the same thing, then let him go, Ian. Don’t chase after something that doesn’t want to be caught. If he dismisses you and tries to make you feel like you deserve this treatment, then fuck him, because you deserve so much more than that.”

Ian nodded his head, he knew Trevor was right, “Ok.”

“Good. I hope it works out for you.”

Ian looked up at the clock and saw it was almost seven, “Yeah, me too,” he said, getting up from his chair. He quickly said his goodbyes to Trevor, and then made his way outside where he saw Geneva with her back against the building, smoking.

“Where are you going?”

“I, uh, I’m meeting up with someone,” he said.

“New guy?”

“Maybe.”

“What’s his name?”

“Mickey,” Ian said, and he couldn’t help the smile that came across his lips.

Geneva nodded slowly, but then looked as if she had just remembered something, “Is it the same guy that was looking for Carl that one time? Short black hair, and knuckle tattoos?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Why?”

“Nothing,” Geneva said with a small smile, “He was nice. I liked him.”

Ian smiled at that, “Yeah, I like him too,” he said, before waving goodbye to Geneva.

The whole ride to the Alibi, Ian was thinking about what he wanted to say to Mickey. He didn’t know if he should be blunt, or sweet, or if it was even a good idea to talk to Mickey at all. Ian was conflicted once again with the advice that was given to him. It seemed like everybody wanted Ian to approach Mickey in a certain way, and Ian didn’t know which one he should do, or if he should do any of them at all. It hurt Ian’s head to think about it.

As he pulled up to the bar, Ian got a text from Mickey, informing him that Yevgeny was just dropped off and he was on his way. Ian sent him a thumbs up and got out of the car.

When Ian entered the Alibi, he was immediately greeted by Kev.

“Hey, Ian. What’s up, man?”

“Same old, same old,” Ian said and sat down at the bar. He didn’t even have to ask for a beer when Kev sat one in front of him and winked.

Ian grinned and gave him some cash.

“So, what brings you here on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

“Just waiting for Mickey to get here.”

Kev raised an eyebrow, “You and Milkovich still banging?”

“As far as I know of,” Ian smirked and took a sip of his drink, “Why?”

“I don’t know, man. Just never seen Mickey stick to one guy this long,” he gave Ian a genuine smile, “He must really like you.”

Ian felt his heart jump at that. He liked that people could see Mickey’s affection for Ian, even though Mickey didn’t outwardly show it, “I sure hope so,” he said as the door swung open. Ian looked over to see if it was Mickey, but it wasn’t. He put his attention back on his drink.

“Asshole alert,” Kev whispered to Ian.

Ian raised a brow at Kev, and then looked back at the men that came in. There were three of them, all looking to be in their thirties and forties. Ian watched them take their seats next to him at the bar.

“What are you havin', McConnell?”

The man who had sat on the stool next to Ian said in a gruff voice, “Scotch.”

“Got it.”

Ian pulled out his phone and texted Mickey, _‘Where are you at?’_

He gets a reply, _‘Almost there. Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist.’_

_‘Just don’t want you to be late on our first date.’_

_‘NOT A DATE.’_

Ian smiled at his phone. He looked up at Kev, who had just sat down McConnell’s drink, “Mickey’s on his way.”

“Great,” Kev rolled his eyes, and started to clean the shot glasses.

“Mickey,” McConnell grumbled, taking a drink of his scotch, “Milkovich?”

Ian startled, looking over at the man, while Kev answered, “Yeah.”

“You hear what that fuckin’ fruit’s little devil spawn did to my son?”

Kev spared Ian a quick worried glance, before saying, “Uh, I think one of the girls mentioned it last night.”

“They didn’t even kick the little fucker out. Fuckin’ liberal hippie snowflakes. Shouldn’t even let a fag’s kid go to that camp, they could infect everybody else.”

Ian clenched his fists as he stared down at his drink. Normally, he’d lay this guy out in a second, but he didn’t think Mickey would like Ian fighting his battles for him. Besides, the way this guy was talking, if Ian were to fight him, he might kill him.

“Yeah,” McConnell said as he downed the rest of his drink, “Milkovich better watch his fuckin’ back. That whole family is demented as fuck. That includes his little pinko half-breed, and that commie whore he used to have for a wife.”

“Hey, man,” Kev warned, “If you’re gonna talk like that then get out of my bar.”

McConnell scoffed, “Place went down hill since Stan died. I’m not going anywhere. I’m waiting right here, and the moment that faggot walks through the door, I’m beatin’ the fuck outta him. He’s a dead man. That cocksucker needs to teach his little fucking brat not to mess with my kid.”

That was it, he’d had enough. Ian sighed, a little disappointed, “Man, I really didn’t want to get blood on this shirt.”

McConnell turned to him, confused, seeming to just notice Ian’s existence, “What?”

Without another word Ian punched him in the face, knocking the man off the barstool. Ian jumped on him and started beating the shit out of the dude. He noticed McConnell’s buddies coming over to stop him, and he elbowed one in the groin, and then grabbed the other one’s arm, twisting it and taking him down.

McConnell seemingly used this chance to get the jump on Ian since he was distracted. Ian caught it, however, and head butted him.

He got in one more punch before he felt two sets of hands on him, pulling him back. Ian let the two people pull him up, deciding that he’d done enough to these homophobic pieces of shit. He was panting hard, and he looked to the left of him to see Kev, staring at him with amazement, and then to his right to see Mickey with the same shocked expression.

“Let’s go,” he said, as McConnell started to stir.

Ian let Mickey guide him out of the Alibi with Kev on their heels. When they made it outside Mickey was the first to speak.

“Ok, what the fuck was that?”

“I-” Ian stopped, because he really didn’t know. Something just came over him, and he couldn’t sit there and let that asshole talk about Mickey and his family like that.

“You?” Mickey crossed his arms.

“That guy was talking shit about you, and I just… I couldn’t let him get away with that.”

Mickey looked surprised, but he didn’t say anything.

Kev shook his head, “That was amazing, man. You took out like three guys at one time. Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“The Army,” Ian answered simply.

Mickey and Kev raised their brows, “The fuck? You were in the Army?” Mickey questioned.

“Barely,” Ian rolled his eyes, “Didn’t even make it out of basic training.”

Mickey stepped forward and took Ian’s hand. He ran his thumb over Ian’s busted up knuckles, “Man, you got him good.”

“Guess he chose the wrong person to fuck with,” Ian smirked.

“Yeah, I guess he did,” Mickey said, looking deep into Ian’s green eyes.

Seeming to read the room, Kev cleared his throat, “I better get back in there. McConnell’s probably gearing up for round two.”

“Fuck that, I can take him again,” Ian muttered, puffing out his chest.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Like hell you are,” he said, placing a hand on Ian’s chest, “I’m not lettin’ you get arrested tonight over Dave fucking McConnell. Look, we’ll go back to my place, and I’ll patch you up.”

“I’m fine,” Ian said as he started to calm down.

“No, you’re not. Your knuckles are all fucked up and your nose is bleeding.”

“Listen to him, Ian,” Kev said, “I wouldn’t go back in there if I were you.”

Ian glanced between Mickey and Kev, and then he sighed, “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok,” Mickey said, as he gave a short nod to Kev, telling him goodbye. He guided Ian to his car, “C’mon, killer. Let’s get outta here.”

“What about your truck?”

Mickey shrugged, “I’ll come back by and get it later. It’s not going anywhere.”

Ian got into the driver’s seat, while Mickey got in next to him. He drove to Mickey’s house, trying not to look at the blood on his knuckles. He didn’t expect to go that hard on the guy. It made Ian afraid that he might be slipping into a manic episode. He’ll definitely need to call his doctor later to set up an appointment. Hopefully, Ian was wrong, but he could never be too careful.

When they walked into the house, Ian headed to Mickey’s room, while Mickey got the medical stuff from the bathroom. Ian had insisted they stock up after he first met Mandy. Luckily, they took his advice.

When Mickey came into the room, Ian sitting down on the edge of Mickey’s bed.

Mickey stood over him with a washcloth, ace bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and Neosporin. He quietly got to work cleaning up Ian’s knuckles. He worked like that until he started wrapping up Ian’s knuckles, when he said, “So, what set you off?”

Ian was so entranced with what Mickey was doing, he almost didn’t hear the question, “What?”

“What did Dave say that pissed you off so bad?”

“He was just running his mouth.”

“Yeah, but what did he say?”

“I don’t-”

“Look, Gallagher. Whatever he said isn’t going to hurt my feelings. I know how that guy is. Whatever he said, I can take it.”

Ian hesitated before answering, “He just kept calling you a fag.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s about what you’d expect from that guy’s general wheelhouse.”

“He called Yev a pinko half-breed,” Ian said in an almost whisper. Saying the words made him want to throw up, “Then he said he was going to beat the fuck out of you, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to let him get away with talking about Yevgeny like that. I wasn’t going to let him get away with talking about _you_ like that.”

The room was completely silent, and Mickey stopped bandaging Ian’s hand.

Ian looked up to see Mickey staring at him. It was the same way Mickey stared at him when they were outside the Alibi. He then suddenly remembered something Mandy had once told him, about Mickey getting a certain look in his eyes, _‘You’ll know when you see it,’_ Mandy’s voice flashed through Ian’s mind. That was when Mickey kissed him.

Ian didn’t register what was even going on until Mickey cupped his jaw. Ian let his eyes slip close, savoring the moment. He should have been happy; he should have been fucking ecstatic. Mickey was kissing him. Mickey was finally showing Ian the attention he was craving. It was what Ian wanted. So, why did he feel so shitty? Ian pushed Mickey back, realizing he didn’t just feel bad, he felt pissed.

Mickey stared back at him in confusion.

The way Mickey was looking at him like a puppy who didn’t know why he was being scolded, made Ian even more angry, “Seriously, Mickey?” Ian stood up, making Mickey back up a bit.

“What?”

“What? What do you mean what? Why did you kiss me?”

That made Mickey look even more confused, “I don’t know, man, cus’ you were sitting there, and I wanted to. Also, you stood up for me. What kind of stupid fucking question is that?”

“Oh, so that’s it, huh? That’s how I get your attention. I gotta beat a few guys up at a bar, and then you’re all over me?”

“Seemed to work out that way, didn’t it?” he murmured, getting in close to kiss Ian again.

Ian pushed him back, “Stop it, Mickey.”

Mickey looked at him incredulously, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Jesus, Gallagher, you’ve been up my ass about not giving you enough attention, and when I finally give it to you, you don’t want it?”

“No, I don’t. Not like this. You knew I liked you, and you kept pushing me away. So, now that you’ve deemed me worthy, I can have your attention? Fuck that.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey scoffed, “and fuck me for giving a shit. If you wanna act like a little girl about this, Gallagher, then there’s the door,” he muttered, heading for the bathroom.

“No,” Ian said, moving to block him.

“Get outta the way.”

“No, you don’t get to invalidate my feelings like that. I’m fucking tired of you being a dick to me. You’re gonna fucking listen to what I have to say, or I’m leaving and not coming back,” Ian threatened. He held his breath, because for a moment he thought Mickey would let him go, but he exhaled when he saw the other boy back up.

Mickey crossed his arms, “Ok, fine. What is it?”

Ian’s mind went blank for a moment. He didn’t know how to start. Finally, he found his voice, and the words started pouring out like word vomit, “You treat me like shit. From the first time we met you were insulting me, and you’re still doing it. I keep forgiving you, because I know you’re a good person, but that still doesn’t change the fact that words hurt. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like I was doing something wrong. Now, we’re all good because you decided I was finally good enough for you. That’s fucked up, Mickey. I deserve to be treated better than that.”

Mickey looked taken aback, and then he bit his lip, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Ian’s anger deflated a bit, because he wasn’t expecting Mickey to deescalate the conversation by admitting fault.

Mickey ran his hand through his hair, “You’re right. I’ve been a fucking asshole. If you hadn’t noticed yet, I’m not the most sociable person.”

Ian laughed a little, “That’s a fucking understatement.”

“I didn’t kiss you because I finally ‘deemed you worthy,’ or whatever the fuck you said. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. Ever since you kissed me in the front seat of your car, that’s all I could think about doing. It’s just that I’m a fucking idiot, and it takes a long time for me to realize something good in my life, and by that time I would have already fucked it up, so…”

Ian smiled, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. He looked to Mickey, who was eyeing him nervously. Ian knew it must have been hard for Mickey to put his feelings out like that. So, Ian decided to put him out of his misery, and moved forward to kiss Mickey. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s waist and slotted his lips between Mickey’s. The kiss was gentle, until Mickey started tugging him back towards the bed.

When the back of Mickey’s legs hit the bed, he pulled Ian closer, making them both topple over on the mattress.

Ian continued kissing Mickey, feeling a rough pair of hands pulling at his hair. There wasn’t any indication of sex. The two boys seemed alright with just kissing for now. When they finally broke for air, Ian looked down at Mickey, drinking in how beautiful he looked.

Mickey looked back up at him with chapped red lips and disheveled hair. He was panting slightly as he said, “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Ian said, also slightly out of breath.

“Why didn’t I do this sooner,” Mickey muttered to himself.

“Cus’ you’re a stubborn jackass,” Ian laughed, kissing Mickey again.

Mickey huffed out a laughed and pulled away, “I know what could make this better.”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna get high?”

“Fuck yeah, I do,” Ian nodded, rolling off Mickey. He watched as Mickey got into his stash and started preparing the bowl. Ian got comfortable on Mickey’s bed, putting one arm behind his head.

Mickey laid down next to Ian and lit the bowl.

Ian blinked up at the ceiling, not moving a muscle. He waited patiently for Mickey to pass him the bowl, and then he took a hit. He let the smoke fill his lungs and he exhaled feeling calmer than before. He passed it back to Mickey, who grabbed for it, and their fingers brushed. They stayed like that a few seconds longer before Mickey pulled away.

It was silent for a while. Both boys stayed still, letting the moment wash over them. In the end, however, it was Mickey that spoke first. His voice was ragged, almost sounding unfamiliar, “My pops is in prison.”

Ian didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to show any indication that he already knew that. He wanted Mickey to tell him these things himself.

“I’m the reason he’s there.”

Ian slowly let his head lull in Mickey’s direction. He watched the dark-haired boy closely, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, passing the bowl back to Ian.

“What happened?”

Mickey stayed quiet for a moment, and Ian thought Mickey would back out of an explanation, but he then said, “I can’t remember.”

Ian blew out his smoke in little o rings. He looked to Mickey, unamused, “Fine, don’t tell me,” he murmured, and brought his attention back to the ceiling.

“I’m serious, Ian.”

The way Mickey said that made Ian’s head snap back in the older boy’s direction. Ian didn’t think Mickey had ever called him by his actual name before. Ian set the bowl down on the nightstand, and then shifted his body to face Mickey.

Mickey stared at Ian, not saying anything. He looked scared and tired. He looked apprehensive to continue the conversation.

Ian reassured him by bringing his hand up to stroke Mickey’s hair gently. He relished the way that Mickey closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He was surprised Mickey was letting him get this affectionate, but today had been a weird day for both of them, and the boundaries they had set in place before were blurred beyond recognition. When Mickey opened his eyes again, Ian said, “What do you mean you can’t remember?”

“I-” Mickey stopped, looking as if he didn’t know how to explain. Mickey blinked, and it took a moment for Ian to realize that Mickey was blinking back tears.

“Hey,” Ian soothed, “Hey, it’s ok, Mick. Take your time.”

Mickey let out a shaky breath, “Y’know how sometimes on television shows, there will be an episode where a character would fall and hit their head on something and get amnesia?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Mickey said, as if that were to clear everything up, “Except what I fell and hit my head on was my dad’s fist. Repeatedly.”

Ian was at a loss for words. He watched Mickey look at him, like he was gauging Ian’s reaction before he continued.

“I guess what had happened,” Mickey said numbly, “was I got drunk one night a few months after I got outta prison. My pops did something bad, real bad, and I couldn’t handle the guilt it put on my shoulders. So, I got shit faced and I went down to the Alibi, where I knew he was. According to Mandy I just made a b-line to him and started beating the shit out of him. The only reason I got so many punches in was because I caught him off guard, but apparently I started yelling, ‘how does it feel to get your ass beat by a fag?’ and he lost his shit. He got the upper hand and started wailing on me and cracked my skull open. I was in a medically induced coma for about a month. I don’t remember anything from that night, or my first week home. I didn’t even know I’d had a fight with my dad until I went into the kitchen to get breakfast one morning and asked where he was. You should have seen the look on my brothers’ faces.”

“What happened to your dad?”

“Cops got him for violating his probation. I guess everyone they questioned at the Alibi told the police he threw the first punch. So, he got locked up, and I got to stay out.”

“Wow,” Ian said, trying to process the information that was given to him. He was still softly petting Mickey’s hair. Suddenly, he felt Mickey’s hand come up to meet his, and he let Mickey guide him to a spot on his head above his left temple. Understanding what Mickey wanted him to do, Ian rubbed it with his thumb, and he could feel the scar on his scalp, deep in the tuffs of his hair.

“Mhhm,” Mickey closed his eyes, and his breath became steady. He opened them back up and stared deep into Ian’s eyes, “Sometimes I get nightmares,” he murmured in a soft voice, and it was almost a whisper.

“Like your sister does?”

“Yeah, except I can’t remember mine. I think it’s my memory trying to grab at something that isn’t there. I still feel it though. When I wake up, I can feel the fear… and the pain.”

Ian rested his forehead on Mickey’s, and then captured his lips in a kiss. He felt Mickey melt into the kiss immediately. It was sweet and gentle.

After a moment Mickey pulled away a little out of breath. He eyed Ian up and down curiously, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like me?”

“Why shouldn’t I like you?”

“Did you not just hear the story I just told you? I’m fucked up, man. Besides, you were right. The whole time we’ve known each other I’ve treated you like shit. I don’t get it.”

“There’s nothing to get, Mickey. I like you, end of story.”

“Yeah, but you’re-” Mickey struggled to say the words.

“I’m what?”

“I don’t know, man. Perfect? You got a nice house, and a nice car, and a nice family. Why the fuck would you want to spend time down here with me?”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh in Mickey’s face.

“Fuck you. This isn’t funny,” Mickey muttered, moving away.

Ian stopped him, still giggling, “I’m not laughing at you, Mick, but what you said caught me off guard. I’m not perfect, ok? I’m not perfect by a longshot. Also, the house and the car are just stuff. That doesn’t make me better than anybody else. Also, nice family? You definitely wouldn’t say that if you had dinner at my house. Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“Among other things,” Mickey said, eyes casted down so he wouldn’t have to look at Ian in the eyes.

Ian tilted his chin up, “It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me all your secrets now,” Ian said, “but know that everyone has demons, Mickey. Wealth doesn’t change that.”

“What are some of yours?”

Ian hesitated before he gave an answer. This seemed like a better time than any to tell Mickey about his bipolar disorder, but Ian couldn’t figure out how to explain it, so instead he said, “I became a stripper after they discharged me from the Army.”

Mickey scowled, “You’re fucking hilarious.”

“You think I’m joking?”

Mickey’s scowl softened when he saw the very serious look on Ian’s face. He waited for Ian to say more.

“I didn’t want to go home. I mean, how do you tell your family you couldn’t even make it out of basic training? I stayed in boy’s town stripping at the Fairytale for about three months until they brought me home. I’d stay with some of the guys I met at the club, or sometimes I’d sleep in the backroom until they eventually kicked me out to close.”

“Sounds lonely.”

Ian nodded, “I was high on coke at the time. I was also taking ecstasy and dropping acid too, so I can’t really remember those three months. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse, but I worked the back room as much as the front room, so maybe it’s better that I didn’t. I’m clean, by the way, I got tested when I came back. I’m only glad I didn’t get hurt, or addicted to anything,” he said, leaving out the fact that it was a psychotic break that he experienced due to the stress the Army put on him. He didn’t want to bring up his bipolar disorder yet. If Ian were truthful with himself, he was afraid of how Mickey would react.

“Did you like it? Stripping, I mean.”

Ian shrugged, “It was something to do.”

“I don’t think I could do it. Having old guys feel me up.”

“You get used to it. When I was a teenager, I’d have a lot of the older guys at Frank’s country club proposition me, so it wasn’t anything new.”

The revelation seemed to catch Mickey’s attention, “What do you mean they propositioned you?”

“For sex. What else would they want me for?”

“Tell me you didn’t let them.”

Ian shrunk back a bit in shame, “I was a closeted gay kid, Mickey. These rich guys would offer to take me out for the day, and we’d go wherever I want. I thought I was cool hanging out with them, and I liked the attention. At the end of the day, they’d take me back to their hotel rooms and…” Ian trailed off as his eyes flickered up to meet Mickey’s.

“How old were you?”

“It started when I was fifteen and I kept it up until I left for the Army.”

Mickey’s eyes were ablaze with fury, “Fifteen? And what your family didn’t try to stop any of this?”

“They didn’t know. We’d all had our own thing going on and as long as we were back at the house in time for dinner, no one really cared what we did.”

Mickey sat up, “What the fuck?” he seethed.

“Are you mad?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m mad.”

“At me?”

Mickey’s anger deflated immediately, “No, not at you. I’m mad at the old perverts who thought it was ok to put their fuckin’ hands on you. I’m mad at your family for not realizing what was going on. None of them caught on, really?”

“I have a sneaking suspicion Frank knew,” Ian rolled his eyes, “At one point a lot of the men who were hitting me up were some of his top investors.”

Mickey shook his head in disbelief, “That’s fucked up.”

Ian sat up too. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, “Maybe, but it was normal for me. I know now that I was taken advantage of, but at the time it’s all I knew. I didn’t know what a relationship was if it didn’t involve sex. That’s why I came up with our whole arrangement in the first place. I could tell you were hurting, and I don’t know how to help other than offer, well, y’know. And I know it was supposed to just be sex, but something changed. How I felt about you changed, and I wanted more from you. I know it’s not your fault for how I feel, but after a while what we were doing just felt- It felt-” Ian felt a tear slide down his cheek, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“It felt like when you were a kid,” Mickey finished for him, and then an expression of guilt flashed over his face, “Fuck, I was hurting you. I- I still am hurting you.”

Ian shook his head furiously, “No, Mick, you’re not hurting me. I mean some of the stuff you do hurts my feelings, but being with you,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “Being with you doesn’t hurt at all. Being with you makes me feel good, it makes me feel _alive_.”

“I’m sorry, Ian.”

“Not your fault.”

“Some of it is. I know I told you we weren’t going to turn into anything, but I also didn’t anticipate liking you as much as I do. I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t right. So, I’m sorry.”

Ian smiled at him, “It’s ok, Mickey. I forgive you.”

“Good.”

“So, what now?”

Mickey shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve neve been in a relationship before.”

“Really?”

“Unless you count making someone your prison bitch as a relationship.”

Ian laughed at that, but then stopped when he realized Mickey was being serious. Ian had never been to prison, but everyone knew the general rules of what went down, “Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Calm down, it was consensual,” Mickey said, when he saw how uncomfortable Ian had gotten.

Ian visibly relaxed, “So, you’ve really never been in a relationship?” he questioned, and Mickey shook his head. “But you have an ex-wife.”

“So?”

“So, that wasn’t a relationship?”

“Not really. Svetlana was one of my dad’s favorite prostitutes. So, when he found out immigration was after her ass, he came up with the idea that one of us should marry her, so she could stay in the country. So, I jumped at the opportunity. It would be easier to cover my gay ass if I already had a wife.”

“Wait, so your dad was fucking your wife?”

“I mean, so was I. Had to keep up appearances and everything.”

Ian gave him a questionable look, and Mickey sighed because he probably already knew what Ian was thinking.

“Yes, Yevgeny is mine. I’m not fucking stupid. I made Svet get a paternity test before he was even born. I wasn’t going to go my whole life not knowing if I was raising my son, or my brother.”

Ian was quiet for a moment before he said, “That’s fucked up,” mimicking what Mickey had said to him earlier. They both stared at each other before busting out laughing.

They continued to laugh until Ian had tears in his eyes. He didn’t realize how nice it was to laugh with Mickey. He looked back at the shorter boy next to him and smiled.

“The fuck you smiling at?”

“You.”

Mickey’s cheeks started turning pink, “Whatever, you’re such a fag.”

“Would a ‘fag’ be able to take out three guys at once to defend your honor?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Oh, is that what we’re calling it? Because, what I saw was you beating the shit out of some guys and ruining our first date.”

Ian’s smile grew wider, “You called it a date.”

Mickey smirked, letting his eyes lingered on Ian’s lips, and then on his chest. He swiped his thumb over his bottom lip.

“No,” Ian said, knowing what Mickey wanted.

“What?”

“I still want a proper date. I want a do over.”

“This can be our do over,” Mickey murmured, leaning in to take Ian’s lips into a kiss. He moaned and let his hand travel to Ian’s khaki shorts, grabbing at his dick.

Ian pulled back, and moved Mickey’s hand, “No, Mickey. The date’s still on, and I don’t put out until the end of the night.”

“C’mon, Gallagher,” Mickey whined.

“No, Mick,” Ian said with a smirk. He tried not to think about how sexy it was that Mickey was begging for him.

“Well, what the fuck are we even supposed to do? Can’t go back to the Alibi.”

“We don’t have to leave the house. We can watch a movie or something. Order a pizza?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Wow, you’re really pullin’ out all the stops, huh?”

“Ok, genius, what do you do on dates?”

“Never been on one.”

“What? Mickey, you can’t tell me you’ve never been on a date before.”

“Well, I haven’t. Not much dating to do on the Southside. Unless it includes getting drunk or being bent over a dumpster at eleven o’clock at night. I know how dates work, I’ve seen movies, but I’ve never really had the chance to date,” he shrugged.

Ian crossed his arms, “Ok, wanna tell me any other things you haven’t experienced before?”

“Well,” Mickey said, “I never kissed during sex, before I was with you. The time you kissed me in your car when you dropped me off at work, was my first kiss with a guy that didn’t involve sex, which as I stated before, was with you.”

Ian didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know what to do with that information, but Mickey did.

He pulled Ian in for another kiss, smiling against his lips, “I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too,” Ian said as Mickey pulled back.

“So, why don’t we finish that off,” Mickey said, motioning to the weed still on the nightstand, “And then we can go have a nice date with shitty 80’s action movies, beer, and cheap delivery pizza.”

Ian gave Mickey a small peck on the mouth, “Sounds fucking perfect.”

When Ian and Mickey finished off the weed, they both walked into the living room, and Mickey pulled out a DVD case, “Ok, what kind of movie do you wanna watch?”

“You don’t want to watch anything on Netflix?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I’ve got a better movie selection then fucking Netflix.”

“Who the hell uses DVDs anymore?”

“I do, shithead.”

Ian laughed, “What, you some kind of movie buff?”

“Yeah, keep laughing, but when hard copies of film become obsolete, I’m gonna make a fuck ton of money.”

“No, you won’t. They’ll be about as much in value as VHS tapes are now, which is nothing.”

“Just pick a fucking movie, man.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, walking over to Mickey, “Got anything with Van Damme?”

“Dude, fuck Van Damme.”

“If it were the 80’s and he swung that way, I totally would.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Gross. Was he like your sexual awakening or something?”

“No, that would be Justin Timberlake.”

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you’re into boybands.”

“Nah, just JT,” he said, flipping through the DVDs, “I see a lot of Steven Seagal. He do it for you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Y’know he’s like a gross old man now.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey said as he set up the DVD player.

“Was he _your_ sexual awakening?”

“Nah, that was-” Mickey stopped short, seeming a little embarrassed now.

Ian looked up at him, “Yeah?”

Mickey shook his head, “Nope.”

“What? C’mon,” Ian scoffed, “I told you mine.”

Mickey sighed, “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, fine, it was Patrick Swayze.”

Ian’s eyebrows shot up, “Swayze, huh? Good choice. You a Dirty Dancing fan?” Ian smirked.

Mickey groaned, “See, I knew you were going to say that. Nah, man. I watched Road House with my brothers when I was like thirteen, and had to sit through the whole thing with the most uncomfortable boner of my life. Anyway, great fucking film. Critics didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about,” he rolled his eyes, “Roger Ebert can kiss my ass.”

“I liked Point Break,” Ian said as he pulled out Lionheart. He held it up to Mickey to get his approval.

“Ok, that’s a good Van Damme movie,” Mickey agreed, as he took the DVD and put in the movie.

“I’ll order us some pizza,” Ian said, and he went over to the fridge to get them some beers. He then settled in next to Mickey on the couch when he started the movie.

When their pizza finally arrived, Mickey was sure to tease Ian about his choice of toppings, “Fucking onions, man? Ok, I don’t think we’re going to work out.”

Ian flipped him off, “Excuse me for trying to be a little healthy. It’s a hell of a lot better than your fucking meat lover’s pizza with extra bacon.”

“Hey, whine all you want, but this is the best type of pizza.”

“I think you just like putting meat in your mouth,” Ian said, dodging the playful punch Mickey threw at his arm.

They watched the rest of the movie in silence, just eating, drinking, and sometimes passing a cigarette between each other. Ian liked that they were just enjoying each other’s company. When the movie was over, Ian let Mickey pick the next one. They decided on Red Dawn because Mickey loves it and Ian’s never seen it.

About an hour or so into the movie, Ian decidedly wasn’t that into it. How could he be, when he had a sexy Southside thug, sitting next to him? Ian leaned into him, which caused Mickey to throw his arm over Ian to cuddle him. It felt so natural to him, so right, and it turned Ian on.

More minutes passed and Ian started to feel buzzed. This was his second beer, and the meds were doing exactly what their supposed to be doing when mixed with alcohol. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, however you look at it,) for Ian, the buzzed feeling from the alcohol was only making him hornier. He turned further towards Mickey, who was still engrossed in the film. He started kissing Mickey’s neck and slipped one hand under Mickey’s tank top to gently scratch at his chest.

Mickey looked to him mildly amused, “Oh, yeah?”

Ian responded by nipping at Mickey’s neck.

“Hey, hey,” he warned, “You’re missing the movie.”

Ian didn’t say anything, but brought his hand out from under Mickey’s shirt, and then started to palm Mickey through his jeans.

“C’mon, man,” Mickey groaned, “There’s only like fifteen minutes left.”

Ian moved up to Mickey’s jaw as he unbuttoned Mickey’s pants and unzipped his zipper. Ian pushed his hand inside, rubbing Mickey through his boxers.

Mickey’s breath hitched, and he stuttered out, “I’m serious, I wanna watch the end. Plus, you got pizza grease all over your hands.”

Ian ignored Mickey still, when he pulled Mickey out of his boxers, and started moving his hand up and down Mickey’s half-hard cock.

“I better not get pimples on my dick,” he complained as Ian captured his lips in a kiss. Mickey pulled back, “God your breath smells like onions.”

Ian immediately dove back in, and this time Mickey opened his mouth. Ian licked every inch of Mickey’s mouth as he continued to jerk the dark-haired boy off. Ian could feel Mickey was close because he was panting hard in Ian’s mouth. Everything faded away in that moment, and it was like him and Mickey were the only two people in the world. It was their world, and they were happy, they were _safe_.

Mickey was so close now; Ian could feel it. He was ready to feel Mickey’s orgasm all over his hand, when he heard a scream.

“Fuck!” Mickey pushed him away, and immediate started shoving himself back into his jeans.

Ian panicked, and then turned around to see Mandy, Sandy, and a blonde girl standing in the living room with various reactions. Apparently, the two boys were so lost in their own world they didn’t hear the door open.

Mandy had her hand covering her eyes, “Ew, Mickey, Ian! What the fuck?! You have your own room!”

The blonde girl was also covering her eyes, “What did I tell you, Mickey? What did I tell you?! This is just like New Year’s Eve, ugh!”

Sandy wasn’t covering her eyes, but she was doubled over laughing.

Ian felt his face get red hot. He was about to start apologizing profusely when Mickey spoke.

“Will you stupid bitches shut the fuck up? I’m allowed to do what I want in my own home.”

“I live here too!” Mandy countered, “And it really sucks when I walk in here to see my best friend jacking off my brother.”

“Oh, please, like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

“Yeah, when we were like five, Mick, and look!” she motioned to the blonde girl, “You’ve scarred Tami, again, by laying on the couch with your dick out, ruining everybody’s night.”

“I think I need therapy,” Tami said, with her eyes still covered.

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, and then looked to Sandy, “The hell are you laughing at?”

“You, stupid,” she said giggling.

“That’s it,” Mickey said, getting up, “I don’t have to take this abuse in my own home.”

“Oh, boohoo,” Tami said, going over to Mickey’s pizza and taking a slice.

“Hey, the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“Eating.”

“That’s mine.”

“Hey, this is compensation for my pain and suffering,” Tammi said with her mouth full.

Mickey looked angry, but too tired to argue. He looked to Ian, “You comin’ to bed, Firecrotch? I wanna fuck before I pass out.”

The girls all collectively groaned in disapproval, to which Mickey replied with, “Shut up.”

“I’ll be in there in a minute, ok?” Ian said, watching Mickey shrug and go off into his room. He got up to wash his hands in the sink, so Mickey wouldn’t complain about the grease on his hands.

“Hey,” Mandy said, coming up to him.

“Hey,” he said, pointing to Mandy’s hair, “The blonde turned out really well.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, “So, other than us barging in on you guys, how was your date with Mickey?”

Ian grinned like a lovesick puppy, “Pretty great.”

“So, are you guys like boyfriends now?”

“I don’t know, but we’re definitely together I think.”

“So, our plan worked?” Mandy asked with hopeful eyes.

Ian didn’t want to tell her that it was mostly talking it out that helped. She only wanted to help, and her plan did work to an extent. Ian smiled at her, “Like a charm.”

“Good,” she said, giving Ian a playful shove, “go have fun fucking my brother.”

“I will,” he laughed, and then made his way to Mickey’s room. When Ian walked through the door, Mickey was already naked on the bed, spread out and fingering himself. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of it.

“C’mon, Gallagher,” Mickey moaned, “get on me.”

Ian shut the door and locked it. He wasted no time getting his clothes off, nearly jumping onto the bed. He loomed over Mickey and stared into his eyes only for a brief moment before he kissed him. He felt Mickey open his mouth to allow Ian access.

Somewhere in their intense make out session, Ian grabbed the bottle of lube off the nightstand and squeezed a few drops on his fingers. He then snaked his hand down towards Mickey’s ass and grabbed the hand Mickey was still fingering himself with. He removed the finger, and then replaced it with two of his own.

“Oh,” Mickey’s eyes fluttered open.

Ian kissed Mickey’s jaw, scraping against the light stubble with his teeth. He lowered his mouth down to Mickey’s neck and nipped and sucked on that specific spot that drove Mickey wild, while he slowly pumped his fingers in and out.

“Please just fuck me already,” Mickey gritted out, when Ian let go of his neck with a pop.

“No, Mickey,” he murmured, kissing the purple and red mark he just made. He went back up to Mickey’s jaw and kissed it ever so gently, and then back up to Mickey’s mouth, “Wanna take my time with you,” he kissed Mickey sweetly and the man below his just moaned.

“Please.”

“Don’t worry, Mick, I got you. I’ll get you where you need to be,” Ian said against Mickeys lips as he continued his ministrations. A couple minutes later, Ian pulled out, much to Mickey’s protest, and then he moved down to Mickey’s spread legs, kneeling between them. He gave Mickey a sinful smirk before pushing three fingers into him, while simultaneously taking Mickey’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Mickey’s voice cracked as his eyes widened and he bucked up into Ian’s mouth. His hands grasped at the bedsheets below him.

Ian only responded with a moan, pushing himself further down onto Mickey working his fingers, and curling them in search for Mickey’s prostate. Finally, he found it when Ian heard Mickey groan and felt Mickey’s dick twitch violently in his throat. Ian smiled around Mickey’s length as he continued to bob his head up and down.

After a few minutes he felt Mickey’s hand yank on his hair, which was the universal sign that he was close, so Ian pulled off with a pop. He gave the inside of Mickey’s thigh a kiss before he brought his head up to look at his lover.

Mickey was a panting mess below him. He was sweating and his thighs were trembling. Ian smiled down at him, before reaching over Mickey to grab the bottle of lube and a condom.

“Ian,” Mickey slurred, pushing his hips up to get any type of friction.

“Shh,” Ian soothed as he rolled the condom on and lubed up his cock.

Mickey moved to get on his stomach, but Ian stopped him.

“Can I have you on your back? I wanna see you.”

Mickey hesitated at first, but then nodded and laid back down on his back.

Ian leaned down and kissed Mickey gently before he lined his cock up with Mickey’s ass and pushed in. Both Ian and Mickey groaned out. Ian watched Mickey’s expression carefully.

Mickey bit his lower lip and closed his eyes as Ian slowly sunk into him. He then wrapped his legs around the redhead’s waist.

Ian rocked into Mickey back and forth, putting one hand near Mickey’s head and the other rubbed Mickey’s thigh. His fingers kneading Mickey’s skin like putty and leaving bruises as a reminder of what they had done tonight, and a promise of what was to come.

Mickey wrapped one arm around Ian’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

At this point they didn’t care if the girls could hear. The room was filled with grunting and panting, and little things like, “that’s it, right there,” or, “don’t stop.”

Eventually, Ian could feel Mickey’s thighs tremble, indicating that he was close, and Ian released his hold on Mickey’s thigh and brought his hand up to cup Mickey’s face, “Open your eyes,” he said softly, “I wanna see the look in your eyes when you cum.”

Mickey moaned and opened his eyes. He kept his focus on Ian as he moved his hand between them to jerk himself off. Mickey was only a few strokes in when he gasped and spilled over his and Ian’s stomachs.

Ian groaned when he felt Mickey constrict around him. He kept fucking Mickey through his orgasm until Ian felt his own come crashing down on him, “Oh- oh, Mick,” he moaned, tipping his head back and spilling into the condom. He closed his eyes as euphoria washed over him. He basked in his afterglow for a moment, until suddenly he heard sniffling below him.

Ian looked down to see Mickey with his arm over his eyes, chest heaving as tears rolled down his cheeks, “Fuck,” Ian panicked and pulled out. He moved to kneel beside Mickey, “Hey, Mickey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Ian’s eyes were quickly roaming over Mickey’s body, and he saw Mickey shake his head. “Then what’s the matter?” he asked, feeling very worried. He’d never seen Mickey this emotional after sex, let alone cry in general.

“Just,” Mickey said in a shaky breath, “didn’t know it could feel like that.”

“Like what?”

“So good,” he murmured.

“Oh, Mickey,” Ian smiled softly, and gently moved Mickey’s arm from his eyes. He stared down at the red eyed boy below him and tried to wipe some of his lover’s tears away.

Mickey grunted and moved away, “Stop that shit. This isn’t a rom-com, bitch. Also, if you tell anyone I cried after sex, I’ll cut your dick off and bury it in the back yard.”

Ian’s smile grew wider, which probably annoyed Mickey but he didn’t care. He leaned down and gave a soft kiss to Mickey’s lips, “Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

Ian laughed and got up from the bed. He went into the bathroom and removed the condom. He then got a washcloth and wet it with warm water. He came back into the room and made his way over to Mickey.

Mickey squinted up at him, “The fuck is that for?”

“To clean you up,” Ian said as he started to wipe Mickey off.

Mickey muttered something a long the lines of, “That’s so gay,” as his eyes started to droop.

“Never experienced after care?” Ian questioned as he tossed the rag into the corner of the room.

Mickey shook his head, “Never fucked face to face either,” he mumbled, almost asleep.

Ian felt his heart soar. He liked that a lot of Mickey’s firsts were with him, but it then made him realize that Mickey hadn’t really experienced any normal romantic interactions and that made Ian sad, because Mickey deserved to be cared for too.

Ian watched as Mickey’s eyes closed shut and his breathing started getting heavier. Ian then turned out the light and got in bed behind Mickey. When he pulled the covers over him, he felt Mickey elbow him in the shoulder, “Ow, Mickey, what is it?”

“The fuck, Gallagher?”

“What?”

“You ain’t gonna hold me?”

Ian almost thought he didn’t hear Mickey correctly, “I thought you didn’t spoon?”

“Shut the fuck up, and hold me, bitch. Stop asking stupid questions.”

Ian grinned wildly in the dark, as he slid his arms around Mickey’s waist. He nuzzled the back of Mickey’s neck, as he felt Mickey push back into him, making them completely flushed with one another. Ian put his nose up to Mickey’s hair and sniffed it. The smell of Irish Spring soap lingered as Ian fell into a deep sleep.


	9. Summer Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is mainly going to be a filler chapter. Most of it's just Mickey and Ian being cute with each other, which is a nice break after eight chapters of pining. However, the next couple of chapters are going to be angsty, so look out for that. There is a warning for this particular chapter which is: heavy homophobic language. Anyway, thank you for reading!

The past few weeks had been almost like a dream for Ian.

After he and Mickey talked through most of their issues, and had their first date, they started doing a lot better in their relationship. They’d spent most of their time together, and if they weren’t together, they were texting each other about getting together.

They’d spend a lot of their free time either at Mickey’s house or at the Alibi. Fortunately for Ian, Kev didn’t seem too upset about what Ian had done to Dave McConnell, explaining that there were bar fights at the Alibi frequently. However, even though Kev let Ian off the hook, Ian was still disturbed by his sudden brash behavior, and decided to get an appointment in with his doctor as soon as possible.

Ian had been right to check with his doctor. His meds were going out of wack, probably due to the stress he was having before with Mickey, but he’d never tell Mickey that. Unfortunately, that meant his meds had to be adjusted, and Ian had to keep figuring out ways to lie to Mickey about why he was tired and spaced out for a week. He ended up blaming it on his EMT training course, because he had been nearing the end and he needed to focus on his exams. This technically wasn’t a lie, and it fooled Mickey enough to where he wasn’t suspicious about the side effects of his new medication. Luckily, Ian didn’t develop erectile disfunction as a side effect, or that would have been really hard to explain. Finally, Ian’s mood seemed to even back out around the beginning of July.

On the fourth, everyone seemed to have had plans. Lip had gone to a firework show with friends. Jimmy, Fiona, and Liam went to Jimmy’s parents’ house, while Debbie, Carl, and Franny went to Carl’s girlfriend’s house for a barbeque. Frank had left a few days prior to go on another trip. So, naturally, Ian had spent the fourth of July with the Milkoviches. It was some of the most fun he’d ever had.

Though, not every moment of every day was filled with summer fun, spent with Mickey. Being with him made Ian realize how different they really lived their lives. Sometimes, it made it difficult for Ian to see Mickey, due to their different commitments with things like family, work, and school, but they made it work.

It had taken some time for Ian to get used to being with Mickey on his schedule, since not only did Mickey work, but he also had Yevgeny every other week. That meant Ian usually only got to fuck Mickey when Yevgeny wasn’t home. If he did, they’d have to be really sneaky about it. One of those times included earlier this morning, when Mickey and Ian had to get Yevgeny ready to go back to his mother’s, and they decided to get each other off in the shower while Mandy made Yevgeny breakfast.

Now, after having dropped Yevgeny off at Svetlana’s, they were at the Alibi.

Ian pushed through the crowd huddled around the bar and squeezed back into his seat, “Have any trouble?”

“Old lady tried to snag your spot, but I pushed her off.”

Ian’s eyes widened at first, but then he rolled his them when he saw Mickey’s lips twitch up into a smile, “Ok, yeah. Very funny, asshole,” he said, before taking a sip of his drink. He’d asked Mickey to watch his seat for him while he went to the restroom. It wasn’t an outlandish request. The seats at the bar were currently at high demand because everyone wanted to listen to the Sox game on the radio. So, it made sense to Ian that someone would want to take it.

It was a good thing that Ian wasn’t claustrophobic, because he felt like a sardine in a can. It was hot enough already since the air conditioner crapped out a week ago, but it felt even worse with a swarm of bodies huddled together.

He looked over to Mickey, who was dressed in a tank top and basketball shorts, and Ian suddenly felt over dressed in his t-shirt and jeans.

As if he’d read his mind, Tommy, who had been fanning his face with his hat, said, “It’s so goddamn hot in here. Kev, can you please just get me a bucket of ice to stick my head in.”

Kev looked up at Tommy, from where he was trying to fix the fan, “Unless, you order some alcohol to go over it then no.”

“Any luck?” Kermit questioned.

“I think so,” Kev said right before he broke off a piece of plastic with his screwdriver, “Shit!”

“Stop messing with the damn thing, Kev,” V said as she came out of the back room, “I already called someone to come and fix it.”

“V, I can do this. Just give me a couple more hours.”

“A couple more hours to what? Break it? Stop fooling around and go get the kegs from the back. A new shipment just came in.”

Kev grumbled and dropped what he was doing. He then made his way to the back room.

“Y’know, I can’t believe you’re calling a guy to come fix you air conditioning, when one of us would have done it for free,” Tommy said.

“I want it fixed right,” V said as she stepped behind the bar.

“Yeah, but you’re wasting money that could have been used on a new tv.”

Kermit shook his head, “How do you sleep at night?”

V rolled her eyes, “You’ll thank me later when you’re not dying of heat stroke. Besides, would you rather have working air, or a tv?”

“A tv,” said a collective group of people in unison.

“You’re a bunch of damn fools,” V mumbled.

Ian looked over to Mickey, who was finishing off his drink. He looked fidgety, which made sense, because Mickey didn’t like people hounding him and breathing on him.

When Mickey set his glass back down, someone bumped into him, almost making him fall off his stool, “Watch it, fuck head!” he snapped, as the bar patron held up their hands in defense.

“Damn, Mickey, chill. It was an accident,” Ian said, gently putting his hand on the small of Mickey’s back.

“People need to watch where they’re going,” he grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in the seat, “It’s too fucking hot in here.”

Ian nodded in agreement. It was extremely hot, and the fact that there was a huge crowd around them, and the air wasn’t working, didn’t help. After a few minutes, Ian couldn’t take it anymore. He was sweating so hard; he was basically swimming in his shirt. In one fluid motion he slipped it off, setting his shirt in front of him on the bar. This was accompanied by some woos and a few wolf whistles from the lady patrons of the bar.

Mickey, who was still fuming, looked over to Ian and his mouth dropped slightly. His eyes raked over Ian’s bare torso; his anger seemingly forgotten.

Ian smiled sheepishly at him, “Like what you see?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Hey, Channing Tatum,” Tommy said, making Ian turn to face him, “put your shirt back on. You’re making the rest of us feel bad.”

“Yeah,” Kermit said in agreement.

“C’mon, guys, it’s really hot. My shirt’s so wet, you can ring it out,” Ian argued as V set a beer in front of Mickey.

“Is he even allowed to have his shirt off in the bar?” Tommy asked V.

“I’m definitely not complaining,” V said, giving a playful wink to Ian.

The two men rolled their eyes and went back to listening to the game.

When Kev came back into the room, he was sweating profusely, “Fuck, those kegs were heavy. It’s way too hot for this shit,” he said, stepping behind the bar. He squeezed in behind V and started taking drink orders. He got a few orders in before he looked up to notice Ian had his shirt off, “Well, hey there sexy,” Kev laughed, “Someone works out.”

Ian blushed, and then looked at Mickey who was now glaring at Kev. He smiled a little, putting his hand on Mickey’s knee.

Mickey’s anger faltered when he looked down at Ian’s hand. To the untrained eye, Mickey looked completely indifferent, but Ian knew better. He had the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, seeming to like the reassurance Ian had given him.

“Wow, this is soaked,” Kev commented, looking at Ian’s shirt.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t dress for it to be a hundred and twenty degrees.”

Kev shrugged, “Maybe a hundred and ten,” he joked. Kev then started to wipe down the bar, “Also, just to let you know, that if Milkovich pops a boner, you have to put the shirt back on.”

Ian laughed, while Mickey flipped him off. They sat there for a few more minutes, while Ian nursed his one beer. Another downside to new medication is the affects it had with alcohol. Suddenly, Ian felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

He turned to see it was a pretty blonde girl, probably around his age. She was standing with two other girls, who were huddled close behind her.

“Hey,” Ian smiled politely, giving the group a small nod. He didn’t mean to be vain, but he knew exactly what the girl wanted before she even asked.

“Hey,” the blonde girl said, as she got closer, “Buy a girl a drink?”

“Sure,” Ian said nervously, hoping that getting the girl her drink would make her go away. He looked to Kev, “Whatever she wants.”

“Martini dry,” she said, causing Kev to raise an eyebrow at Ian.

Ian looked to him as if to say, ‘just do it, so she’ll leave’.

“So, this heat is crazy, right?”

Ian nodded again with a now uncomfortable smile, “Yeah, summer can get that way.”

The group of girls giggled, “You’re funny,” the blonde said, touching his arm, “and cute.”

Ian flinched away from her touch, “Thanks, but I actually came here with someone,” he explained, trying to be as nice as he could.

The blonde girl, however, didn’t seem to care, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave with someone else.”

“Really, I’m taken.”

“I don’t mind if you have a girlfriend,” she said seductively, “What’s summer without a little scandalous romance?”

“Hey, Barbie, didn’t you hear him? He said take a fucking hike.”

Ian bit back a smile, turning around to see a very pissed off Mickey. Ian silently thanked him with his eyes. He didn’t think he had the nerve to tell this girl to fuck off.

The girl made a face, “Who are you?”

“The girlfriend,” Mickey said, crossing his arms.

The blonde girl looked a little shocked as she glanced between Ian and Mickey. With a scoff, she turned around and pushed her way out of the crowd, with her two friends in tow.

“Hey, you forgot your drink!” Kev called out but was greeted with the blonde’s middle finger.

“Fuck her, I’ll drink it,” Mickey said, taking the martini out of Kev’s hand. He sipped on it, and then looked up to see Ian, Kev, V, Tommy, and Kermit staring at him. He raised his brow, “What?”

“Nothing,” Kev shrugged, “Just didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“Jealous type? I’m not fucking jealous.”

“Oh, please. When that girl put her hand on Ian’s arm, you looked like you were gonna rip her head off,” V said, before stepping out from the counter to collect empty glasses from the tables.

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, finishing off the martini. He grabbed Ian’s shirt off the bar and shoved it at his chest, “Put this back on. I don’t want anyone else trying to hit on you.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Fine,” he said, slipping it back on, “It’s still really fucking hot in here though.”

“Then we’ll leave. Getting tired of lookin’ at these assholes anyway,” Mickey said, motioning to Kev and the rest of them.

“Wow, kitty’s got her claws out today,” Kev said, causing Mickey to flip him off.

Ian smiled at Mickey affectionately, “Wanna go swimming?”

“Hell no. It’s packed, and I don’t want to go swimming around in other people’s urine.”

"We could go back to your place?”

Mickey gave Ian a withering look.

"Hey, at least it has air conditioning."

"The fuck we gonna do there?"

"Well, since Yev is gone we have the bedroom to ourselves," Ian smirked, getting close to Mickey's ear, "I could eat you out again, like I did this morning in the shower."

Mickey's eyebrow raised to his hairline, while Kev and the rest of the guys gave Ian a disgusted look.

Ian picked his glass up to take another drink, but Kev snatched it out of his hand.

"What?" Ian laughed in surprise.

"No more drinks until you disinfect your mouth."

"Oh c'mon, Kev, give me a break."

"What's going on?" V asked as she came back behind the counter.

"Kev is revoking Ian's drink privileges," Kermit explains.

"Why?"

"Because, Rimjob Roger, over here decided to go ass to mouth with his boyfriend before coming over to put his lips all over our glasses."

"Holy fuck," Mickey said, looking absolutely mortified, "Will you please shut the fuck up?"

Unlike Mickey, however, Ian wasn't really ashamed about what he liked in bed. He'd done enough stuff, and had been caught doing enough stuff, to not be so embarrassed talking about it. So, he liked eating ass, so what? He definitely loved eating Mickey's ass. That was something he'd shout from the rooftop.

Ian watched with amused eyes as Kev threw the glass away in the trash. Straight people were really fucking funny. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"Y'know, you can just wash it right?"

"But I'll know what happened. That's something you can't wash away."

"You're gonna throw away a glass, because you found out I rimmed a guy?"

"Yeah, if the guy is Mickey. I don't want the essence of Mickey's ass germs on my glass. They all get mixed up after they're washed. What if I drink out of that glass? Then it's like _I_ ate Mickey's ass."

"That's a good point," Tommy said.

"No, it isn't!" Mickey shouted; his face flushed with embarrassment.

Ian would have comforted Mickey if he hadn't been laughing so hard.

"Alright, that's it," Mickey huffed, getting up, "We're leaving."

Ian got up and paid for the drinks, still giggling to himself. He pushed through the crowd and followed Mickey to the exit, and with his hand on the door he heard Kev say, "Have fun munching on each other's butts!"

Mickey turned around, "The fuck did you just say?"

Ian turned him back towards the door, laughing again at what Kev had said.

"Glad you're having a great fucking time," he muttered as they made their way down the street.

"Oh, c'mon, Mick. He was just playing around."

“Well, he plays around too much.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, taking in the Chicago heat. Ian could tell Mickey was embarrassed. He felt bad because he’s the one that brought it up. Ian wanted to apologize, but he didn’t think Mickey wanted to talk about it at all anymore, so he decided on changing the subject, “So, girlfriend, huh?” he smirked, causing Mickey to roll his eyes.

“I just wanted her to know you were taken.”

Ian gave Mickey a little pout, “So you’re not my girlfriend?”

Mickey shoved him a little but had a small smile on his face as he did it, “Fuck off, Gallagher.”

Ian laughed, and then a short silence fell between them before he said, “You my boyfriend?”

Mickey tensed a bit, which worried Ian. That was clearly not a good sign. The pause that followed felt agonizingly slow, even though in reality it had only been a few seconds. Mickey sighed, “Maybe let’s not put a label on it right now.”

Ian nodded. It stung a little bit, but he understood. Things with Mickey had only gotten increasingly better since they talked out their issues. Romantically, they weren’t slowing down, and sexually, they definitely weren’t slowing down. Ian had to learn how to go at Mickey’s pace.

Through his whole life, Ian never slowed down when it came to relationships. He was getting blowjobs from guys behind the bleachers at thirteen and having full fledged sexually relationships at fifteen. The first boyfriend he’d ever gotten, he’d moved in with almost immediately. Ian had never taken things slow, not even once. With Mickey, however, he had to take his time. Through all the tough guy bullshit, Mickey was actually very vulnerable when it came to just being romantic with one another. Ian liked that.

“That piss you off?”

Ian pulled himself from his thoughts to look at Mickey, “No.”

“Good, cus’ it shouldn’t,” Mickey said, but not in a harsh way.

Ian smiled at him, and Mickey smirked back. Ian stopped then on the sidewalk, making Mickey quirk his eyebrow up at him. Ian then leaned down and kissed Mickey.

Mickey’s breath hitched as he reciprocated. As the kiss deepened, Mickey stepped back, and before Ian could protest, Mickey pulled them into an alleyway.

Ian gave Mickey a suspicious look, before he was roughly shoved up against a brick wall. He felt his stomach flutter, when Mickey was back on him, slipping his tongue between Ian’s lips and grabbing onto his hair. Ian moaned at the sudden assault on his mouth, and he let Mickey make out with him for a few minutes before they both had to stop. Panting hard, Ian put his forehead on Mickey’s, “And they say romance is dead,” he murmured, before giving Mickey a peck on the lips.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Not smart for us to just make out in the middle of the street, Gallagher. You wanna get beat up?”

Before Ian could answer, he felt his phone buzz. He checked it as Mickey craned his neck to read it.

It was a text from Fiona, which read, _‘Make sure to be home by seven. Sheila’s making your favorite tonight. Congrats on passing your training course! We’re so proud of you!’_

“Training course?”

Ian looked up at Mickey, “Yeah, for my EMT training. I finally finished the course.”

“Really? Congrats, man.”

Ian smiled sheepishly, “Thanks. It’s, uh, not that big of a deal.”

Mickey scoffed, “Just take the damn congratulations, Gallagher.”

“Ok,” Ian grinned, and then leaned down to kiss Mickey again.

Mickey smiled against his lips, before pulling away to look into Ian’s big green eyes.

“My family is throwing a little party tonight. You can come if you want? Meet everybody?” Ian said hopefully, but he furrowed his brow when he saw Mickey’s expression, “Or not?”

Mickey shook his head, “No, uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.”

“No, I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to meet them.”

“I know.”

“It’s just a lot right now.”

“Mickey, it’s ok, I get it,” Ian said with a reassuring smile, “You can meet them some other time.”

“Ok.”

“Besides, probably for the best. I know you’ve already met Lip and Carl, but it would be good to try and ease you in by introducing them one by one. Getting thrown into a Gallagher party without proper precautions is like throwing someone into a shark tank.”

Mickey smirked, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of a lot,” Ian said with a laugh, “And, y’know, I thought I’d be more courteous to you, than you were to me when I had to meet your entire family in my underwear.”

“Ok, that was an accident,” Mickey argued, “I honestly thought It was only going to be Mandy and Iggy at the house that morning, but then Colin stayed home from work, and Sandy, Joey and Jaime, came back early from their trip, and then Svetlana dropped off Yev unexpectedly. Also, the fact you came out in your boxers was on you.”

“I didn’t know you lived with your family,” Ian countered, as they both walked out of the alleyway and back onto the street, “You’re lucky I didn’t walk out naked.”

“Lucky? I don’t know, man,” Mickey shrugged, “seein’ your fine, naked, ginger ass, sounds pretty lucky to me.”

“Whatever,” Ian chuckled, as they walked back to Mickey’s house. They walked in content silence for the rest of the way. When they got to the street the house was on, Ian looked over at Mickey, who looked deep in thought. Ian was about to ask him what he was thinking about, but Mickey then answered the question for him.

“I wanna celebrate it too,” Mickey said, as they neared his house.

“Celebrate what?”

“You passing your course. I wanna do something for you.”

Ian grinned at him, “That’s really sweet, Mickey.”

“Shut up,” Mickey grumbled, as a blush started to form on his cheeks, “How does dinner sound?”

“Sounds good. When?”

“Tomorrow after work? It won’t be anything fancy but…”

Ian stopped at the bottom of the front steps to Mickey’s house, “That sounds nice,” he said, and then he threaded his fingers through Mickey’s, “Thank you.”

Mickey’s face continued to redden as he let Ian hold his hand, “Hey, you deserve it. I couldn’t pass no EMT training course. Shit, it took me almost five years to get my GED.”

“You’re smarter than you think, Mick.”

“Try telling that to your brother.”

“Lip doesn’t know anything about you. The only reason he picks on you so much is because you probably intimidate him,” Ian said in a serious tone. It still made him mad that Lip found any possible chance to insult Mickey’s intelligence. Ian knew it was one of Mickey’s sore spots even if the other boy would never admit it.

“Well, apparently he’s not intimidated enough to not insult me in the first place,” Mickey said, releasing his hold on Ian. He walked up the stairs and into the house.

Ian followed him, still feeling elated from Mickey asking him on a dinner date, and a little bit pissed at Lip for his treatment of Mickey. He walked into the living room to see Mandy tying up her sneakers.

Mandy looked up at him and smiled. She was wearing a tank top, shorts, and her hair was up in a ponytail.

Ian smiled back, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Where are you going?”

“I was gonna go shoot some hoops at the park,” she explained, motioning to the basketball on the couch, “Wanna come?”

Ian looked to Mickey, who shrugged. He nodded, “Sure.”

They both followed Mandy out the door, and back into the summer heat.

When they got to the park it was full of people. They were lucky to have found a spot on the basketball court open. They played twenty-one basketball, which Ian won. Mickey complained that Ian only won because he was freakishly tall. This caused Ian to shoot back, saying maybe the problem was because Mickey was too freakishly short.

They then played a few rounds of horse, which Mandy had suggested. Ian had won two of those, and Mickey won the last one, but only by one letter. After about an hour, Mandy decided to go buy some popsicles from the ice cream truck on the other side of the park.

When Mandy left, Ian said, “Do you think we should wait to start a new game until she comes back?”

“Fuck that,” Mickey said, dribbling the ball, “You see how long that line is? We can squeeze a game in before she gets back. What do ya say, Gallagher, one on one? Unless, you’re too scared I’ll beat you,” Mickey goaded.

“Beat me? Who’s been kicking your ass since we got here?”

“I won the last one.”

“By one fucking letter, Mick,” Ian rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, we gonna play or not?”

Ian grinned and snatched the ball from Mickey, shooting the ball and making it into the basket, “That’s two points.”

Mickey raised his brow at Ian, as if to tell him it was totally on.

After about twenty minutes of playing, Ian and Mickey were tied, and Mickey had the shot.

“How’s it feel to lose, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned at him, “Bet you’ll miss.”

“Fuck you, no I won’t.”

“Wanna bet on it? You miss and I get a kiss,” Ian wriggled his eyebrows.

“You and your damn bets,” Mickey rolled his eyes. He was about to take the shot when Ian slapped it out of his hands.

“Hey!” he snapped, wrestling with Ian for the ball. He finally got it back when Ian’s tall frame was suddenly blocking his shot.

“Oh, c’mon, Mick. Take the shot,” he teased.

“Fuck off, Fire crotch,” Mickey grumbled, trying to maneuver around Ian, “Jesus, Gallagher, quit it.”

“Quit what, Mick?” he questioned, grabbing Mickey by the waist.

“I said stop,” Mickey said, trying to sound serious, but failing.

“Take the shot, and then I’ll stop.”

Mickey struggled to get out of Ian’s grasp, which was now a bear hug from behind. He let out a growl and shot the ball, missing the net completely.

“Wow, you missed,” Ian commented with faux innocence. He ran to grab the ball, and before Mickey could do anything, he shot the ball into the basket, winning the game.

Mickey glared at him.

“Guess that means I win.”

“If you think I’m kissing you, you’re sorely fuckin’ mistaken. You ruined my shot, you assho-”

Ian cut Mickey off by kissing him.

Mickey reeled back, “Fuck you,” he laughed.

Ian grinned and kissed him again, and this time Mickey didn’t pull back. They were in their own little world for a few seconds before Ian heard someone call out to them.

“Yo, Milkovich!”

Mickey looked away from Ian, and the smile suddenly slipped from his face.

Ian followed Mickey’s gaze to see a group of guys around their age, walking towards them. Ian instinctively went to put himself in front of Mickey, but the older boy stopped him.

“I got this,” he said, before stepping up to the guys, “Hey, fellas.”

The one who called out Mickey’s name smiled at him in a sinister way, “Hey, Mickey. How’s it going, man?”

“Same old same old.”

“Yeah?” he scoffed, “How’s your pops?”

Mickey tensed, “Still in the joint.”

“Bet you’re happy about that,” he said, looking over at Ian, who had come to join Mickey.

Mickey stood a little taller, “Maybe. How’s your old man, Eddie?”

“He’s locked up too. Cops got him in County though. Assault and battery,” he shrugged.

Ian glanced between Mickey and the guy, Eddie. To someone just walking by, it seemed like a normal conversation, but Ian noticed things. He saw the way Mickey looked like he was ready to fight, and how Eddie was smiling, but there was venom in his eyes. Ian looked back at the group behind the guy, and they were all huddled around, almost like they wanted to box Ian and Mickey in.

“That was a nice game you were playing,” Eddie said, changing the subject, “Must have been hard to play with those high heels on,” he laughed. The group laughed as well.

Mickey’s smile was tense, “Not really. I’m pretty good at the game.”

“Dangerous though,” Eddie said, getting in Mickey’s face, “Shouldn’t be out here in high heels. You might end up getting hurt.”

Ian knew now what he meant by ‘high heels’. He watched carefully as Mickey stared the guy down. He was fairly sure this was going to end in a fight. But then he watched as Mickey glanced back at him, and then sighed.

“You’re right. Maybe we should just go home then,” Mickey said, and Ian had never heard him sound so tired and defeated.

Eddie grinned at him, “Good idea,” he said, before pushing Mickey back hard, “Fucking kids play here, you faggot. Go have your pride parade somewhere else.”

Ian caught Mickey by the shoulders before he could fall backwards. He glared as the group of homophobic assholes walked back to the other side of the basketball court, “Fuck him, Mickey. Let’s just go.”

Mickey stared him down a moment longer, and then resigned with a nod, “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Hey, Milkovich!” Eddie called out to him, “Just answer me one question, man! How’s a guy from the toughest family on the Southside, turn into a cock sucking queer?!”

Mickey raised his brow in surprised anger. He turned around, “I don’t know, man! I guess it happened after I fucked your sister!”

Ian’s eyes widened at that. He looked over at the group who’d been laughing before. They definitely weren’t laughing now.

“The fuck did you just say?!”

Mickey smirked, “Oh, wait, it was actually your mother, not your sister! My bad, man, all those fat, toothless, crackwhores look the same to me! Anyway, after a night with her, I decided jumping on a cock wasn’t so bad! Hey, it makes sense though, with your dad and everything! If I were married to Jabba the Hutt, I’d get my ass thrown in jail too!”

The group of guys were now making their way back to them, and Ian looked to Mickey just as Mickey looked to him, both realizing that Mickey’s big mouth was going to get their asses kicked, far worse than they would have gotten before.

“Shit,” Mickey sighed, and then he said, “run.”

Ian didn’t have to be told twice, as he turned around and took off in the other direction. He passed Mandy on his way, but he didn’t stop.

“Where are you two going?!” She called out to them, “I got us popsicles!”

Ian focused on getting the hell out of the park. He weaved through benches and pushed passed people who were in his way. Unfortunately, Ian could still her the assholes behind him.

“When we catch up to you, you’re fucking dead!”

Ian didn’t falter, and eventually made it out of the park. He kept running, remembering how to get back to Mickey’s home. Eventually, after many turns, and jumping over fences, Ian couldn’t hear the group of bigots anymore, but he kept going.

At some point in running, Ian had lost Mickey. He ran into an alleyway near the Milkovich house, and then stopped to catch his breath. He crouched behind the dumpster, and brandished his knife, ready to jump on those guys if they ended up finding him here. He looked over at the end of the alley and could basically see Mickey’s street. He felt a wave of nausea hit him and hoped Mickey had made it home.

Suddenly, Ian felt someone grab him by the shoulder, and he shoved his elbow back hard, causing the person to let him go. He turned around, with his knife ready in his hand, but stopped when he saw that it was Mickey.

Mickey grunted, laying on the ground, holding his stomach, “The fuck, man?”

“Shit, Mickey,” he said, closing his knife and putting it back into his pocket. He got on his knees, and cradled Mickey’s head, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, sitting up, “I think you gave me internal bleeding though.”

“I’m so glad you’re ok.”

Mickey, who was still holding his stomach, said, “Define ok.”

Ian smiled through watery eyes and kissed him, “Don’t scare me like that again, asshole.”

“Asshole? I think you mean genius, since it was my idea to split up from you and have them chase me.”

“Shit, do you think they followed you?”

“Nah, I think I lost them. Let’s get back home though, before they find us.”

Ian got up, and held his hand out to Mickey, helping him to his feet. They both crouched back down and scoped out the alley one last time.

“What if they’re waiting for us on the other side?”

Mickey shook his head, “Doubt it. They’re not that smart.”

“How do you even know that guy?”

“Would you believe me if I said we were friends in high school?”

Ian’s eyes widened, “What happened?”

Mickey looked at Ian like he was an idiot, “We grew apart,” he deadpanned.

Ian rolled his eyes, and then took a deep breath, “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, now,” Ian said, and both him and Mickey ran out of the alleyway and sprinted for the house. Other than almost getting hit by a car when they crossed the street, Ian and Mickey made it to the house without any trouble. They both barreled up the steps and ran inside, Ian slamming the door behind them.

“The fuck is goin’ on with you guys?” Iggy said from the couch. He was sitting next to Sandy and Jaime, watching the Sox game on tv.

Mickey flipped him off, holding his stomach and panting.

Ian was panting just as hard. He leaned up against the wall when the front door swung open. Ian let out a yelp and Mickey jumped back next to him.

Mandy stormed in furiously, as she shut the door behind her, “What the fuck, you two? You guys just left me there.”

“Did anyone follow you?”

“What? No.”

Ian and Mickey sighed in relief. They both looked at each other, and then busted out into laughter.

“Ok, you guys are demented,” Mandy scoffed, leaving to go into the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Sandy said, “Whatever you two are on, can I have some?”

“We aren’t on anything,” Ian said, as his laughter died down.

Mickey took a seat on the couch next to the front door, “You know that guy I used to run around with back in high school, Eddie Zago?”

“Oh, yeah,” Iggy said, “I used to sell his dad meth.”

“He and I got into it at the park.”

“He was being a homophobic piece of shit,” Ian muttered, “and then him and his goons chased us out of the park.”

“Yeah, thanks to my big fat mouth.”

“Fuck him, Mickey. He deserved it.”

“Who deserved what?” Mandy asked, as she came back into the living room with a water.

“Eddie Zago. You remember him?”

“Sure,” Mandy shrugged, “I blew him in the boy’s bathroom in ninth grade.”

“Great. Not what I asked.”

“Wait, is that why you guys were running?”

“Yeah, he saw me kissing Ian and got in my face about it.”

Sandy gave Mickey a sly smile, “I’m sure you did everything in your power to deescalate the situation.”

“Hey, fuck you. I kept my cool. I didn’t even hit him. I was just gonna let it go, but the asshole kept running his mouth.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I may have said his mom and sister were toothless crackwhores. I also might have compared his mom to Jabba the Hutt.”

The whole room started cackling with laughter. Ian gave Mickey a reassuring smile, and sat down next to him, “If it means anything, I’m proud of you for not beating him up.”

“Not like that would have worked. There were like five of them, and if I started swinging, they would have gone after you too.”

Ian kissed him, “I think I could have taken them.”

“Oh, yeah, Army?”

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh, as Mandy set herself beside Ian.

Mickey groaned, rubbing his temples, “I’m gonna have to watch my ass now, since I basically just declared war. I’ll just have to wait it out until Zago finds somebody else to hunt down.”

“Nah, fuck that,” Jaime said, “We’ll take care of him.”

Ian didn’t want to know what ‘taking care of him’ entailed, but whatever it was he sure as hell wasn’t losing any sleep over it.

“Yeah,” Iggy said, tossing the beer bottle he was drinking on to the floor, “teach him not to fuck with a Milkovich.”

Ian looked over to Mickey who was staring at his brothers in annoyance, but Ian could tell there was a hint of a smile there.

After a few more minutes of talking, they all settled in and started watching the game. Eventually, Colin and Joey came back with beer and cigarettes. They started passing cans of beer around.

Colin looked to Ian, “You wanna beer, Northside?”

Ian’s eyes widened a little. This was the most Colin had ever said to him, “Sure.”

Colin tossed one to him, and didn’t say anything else after that, but it didn’t matter to Ian.

Mickey once told him that Colin only ever really talked around people he knew or trusted. It made Ian happy to know he was in that group of people.

As the game went on, Ian could feel Mandy curling in next to him, falling asleep. He had his arm around Mickey, who was casually leaning into Ian’s side, sipping his beer.

“Jesus,” Iggy said, watching them in disgusted amazement, “Could you guys get any closer to him?”

Mickey flipped him off.

Sandy laughed, “I guess it’s a curse. I bet you’re next, Igg.”

Iggy shrugged, “if that happens, then I’m taking his lap.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, “You go anywhere near his lap, and I’ll break every bone in your hand.”

Ian rolled his eyes, as he held Mickey tighter.

Once the game was over, Mickey’s brothers had to go on an ‘errand’. It probably had something to do with that Eddie guy. Mandy was asleep on the couch, and Sandy went off to her room. This gave Ian and Mickey the perfect opportunity to have some uninterrupted sex.

Mickey must have been thinking the same thing because he said, “Y’know, you still owe me that rim job you promised me when we were at the Alibi.”

Ian laughed a little, “I don’t remember promising you.”

“You saying you don’t want to?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“Don’t worry, Red. I know you want to,” he said as he took a few steps toward his room. He then stopped and turned around. Mickey quirked an eyebrow, “You comin’?”

Ian grinned, practically racing Mickey to the bedroom, before shutting and locking the door.

After two rounds of sex, Ian and Mickey decided to shower off, and then continued to make out in Mickey’s bed before it was time for Ian to leave.

“Don’t wanna go,” Ian murmured in between kisses.

“C’mon, Gallagher,” Mickey said in a surprisingly soft voice, “Your family threw you a party. The only time my family threw me parties were when I’d get out of incarceration.”

“Gonna miss you.”

“You’re gonna see me tomorrow. We’ll go celebrate you graduating after I get off work. I’m gonna take you out to eat,” Mickey said, getting close to Ian’s ear. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “Then we’ll come back here, and I’ll let you fuck my brains out.”

Ian groaned, “You know you’re making it increasingly hard to leave, right?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Have some self-restraint, man.”

“Ok,” Ian said, before kissing Mickey one last time. It was slow and dirty. He slipped his hands into Mickey’s hair, and grinded a little against Mickey’s leg. When he pulled back, he had the boy below him reduced to a panting mess. He got off the bed.

“You are such a bastard,” Mickey said breathily.

“I try,” he smirked, “Goodnight, Mick. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“If I don’t pass out by then. Night, Gallagher.”

When Ian closed the bedroom door behind him, he felt a pang of sadness. With each passing day he found it harder and harder to leave Mickey. He knew that it was because the relationship was new, but it really did feel like an emptiness formed when he wasn’t around Mickey.

With a sigh, he walked out into the living room to see Mandy on her knees in front of the tv. He raised his brow and walked closer to her. When Ian made it over to her, he said, “What are you doing?”

Mandy, who had her head behind the tv trying to hook up cords, sighed in frustration, “Just trying to set this back up. Iggy did something to it, and now all the cords are out of tv.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“Why does he do anything that he does?” she questioned, coming back up to stare at Ian with an annoyed look, “I don’t even know if these are going in the right spot. It’s dark and I’m too high for this shit.

Ian chuckled, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He handed it to Mandy, “Here, pull up the flashlight. I’ll set it back up.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the phone.

Ian switched spots with Mandy and maneuvered himself behind the tv. When he saw the pile of cords all tangled together, he realized why Mandy was so frustrated. Sure, once they were untangled it would be easy to set up, but it was sorting through all the mess that was the problem. Eventually, Ian seemed to get everything where it needed to be. As he was giving it another once over, he heard his phone ring, “Hey, could you tell me who that is?” Ian asked.

“Sure, It’s-” Mandy stopped, and then gasped.

“What is it?” Ian moved out from behind the tv when he heard his phone hit the floor. He glanced up at Mandy, who looked like she’d seen a ghost, “What’s wrong?”

Mandy shook her head, her voice was small, “I just- I think I saw a spider.”

“Oh, shit really?” he looked around.

“It’s gone now.”

Ian nodded and picked up his still ringing phone. He answered it immediately when he saw the contact photo, “Hey, Lip.”

_“Hey, man, are you on your way? Fiona’s getting pissed.”_

Ian rolled his eyes, “I had to help Mickey’s sister with something. I’m leaving now.”

_“Well, you better hurry up, or I’m eating without you.”_

“Whatever, man,” Ian said with a laugh, “I’ll be there soon.”

_“You better be.”_

“Bye, Lip,” Ian said, and then hung up the phone. He looked to Mandy, who was staring at him now, “My brother,” he explained.

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, Lip. He works with Mickey at the bike shop. Mick didn’t mention that?”

Mandy shook her head silently.

“Well, anyway,” Ian said, grabbing his keys off the coffee table, “your tv is hooked back up.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled to herself.

Ian raised his eyebrow, “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, just that, uh, that spider freaked me out.”

“Well, ok,” Ian said with a slightly concerned smile. He kissed Mandy on the cheek, “I’ll text you later, ok?”

“Ok.”

Ian gave Mandy one more smile before walking back out to the car. As he drove back home, he wondered about Mandy and how she acted before he left. It made him curious, but there were a lot of things about Mandy that made him curious. He decided on not worrying about it, because even if he did press Mandy for the reason for her strange and sudden mood, he knew she wouldn’t reveal anything to him. She was just like that. So, Ian put it out of his mind, and tried thinking about something else. His thoughts eventually went to the person he couldn’t stop thinking about, which was Mickey. He smiled to himself as he drove home.


	10. Not So Different, You And I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this might be my longest chapter, but it clears a lot of stuff up. Something new, is that the first part of this chapter is in Lip's POV and then the second part is in Mickey's. There is a page break to signify when the POV's switch over. So, this whole chapter is about trauma, so obvious warning for trauma, specifically physical, emotional, and sexual. Also child neglect. Also the end scene to this chapter is intense, and it deals with sexual abuse from a parent. This isn't anything new, it's all canon in the show, but I just wanted to let you know. Anyway, as always, thank you for the kudos and comments. And thanks for reading!

Lip Gallagher wasn’t an overly complicated person. He’d always known what he wanted out of life ever since he was little. From the time he was four years old, he knew what he wanted to do and be in the world, and he knew exactly how to do it. Though he knew that the path to what he wanted to achieve was difficult, and he had a few curveballs thrown his way throughout his life, Lip was confident he could handle any problem that came his way. That was until he became an alcoholic.

His life had never been completely easy, having Frank and Monica as parents insured that, but for almost all his life, Lip never had to deal with any crisis that was too major. It wasn’t who he was. However, being a Gallagher was a curse, and he would have fucked up eventually. Just like his brothers and sisters, he too had something push him over the limit, causing him to spiral out of control. They all had their vices. For Lip it was the bottle. Alcohol had always been a comfort to him, but it had never been too much of a problem until a couple years ago. He’d fallen in love, and then his life turned to shit.

She was a waitress. A snarky, dark haired girl with piercings, who worked at a little café on the Northside. Lip could tell she was Southside by the way she carried herself, and he was enamored with her instantly. He’d go to the café for lunch, and then for dinner. He always asked for the waitress, Mandy, which was the name displayed on her nametag, and would leave fifty-dollar tips after each meal. He did this for a few nights, until Mandy followed him outside after dinner, demanding to know why Lip was stalking her. Of course, Lip had to explain he wasn’t trying to stalk her and would leave if she’d ask. She didn’t ask him to leave, but instead dragged him into the alleyway, and they fucked against the side of the building.

Mandy had been very secretive about her past. She wouldn’t even tell Lip her last name, but Lip didn’t mind. He understood what it was like to be defined by his family, so he didn’t share any family stuff either and it worked for them. However, they did share other things, like dreams and aspirations. Lip told her of wanting to become a bio engineer, and she told him about wanting to get out of the Southside, moving to New York and becoming more than what her family were.

Every day Lip would fall a little bit more in love with her. It had gotten to the point where he was so in love with everything Mandy was, that he told her one night in bed at hotel he’d rented for them. When Mandy told Lip she loved him too, he immediately suggested moving with him to Cambridge after the summer was over, where they would stay in an apartment near campus, and come back home on holidays and during the summer. Lip knew he was getting into a creepy territory, where he might had been moving too fast, so he was surprised when Mandy said she would go back with him. It was the greatest moment of his life, until it wasn’t.

A few weeks before he was set to go back to MIT, he’d gotten a call from Mandy, asking him to meet her at the café. Lip already had a bad feeling just by the way she sounded over the phone, so he prepared himself for the worst. Though Lip could have never anticipated the gut-wrenching devastation he’d felt, when she told him that she was pregnant, and it wasn’t his. After that he tried making it work, saying he’d still be with her, but that she had to tell him who she cheated with. It was driving him insane not knowing who touched his girlfriend. His Mandy.

Lip was the one who ended it. Mandy wouldn’t tell him, and he didn’t want someone who kept secrets like that from him. He left without a goodbye and buried himself in schoolwork the moment he got back to Cambridge. Though, that didn’t stop the pain from seeping back in, crawling under his skin like fire ants.

When he couldn’t keep himself distracted with school, Lip turned to an old comfort, which was alcohol. Thus, leading him down a path that caused him to almost get expelled. Luckily, the professor he was a TA for, was also a recovering alcoholic, and noticed the changes that Lip had undergone since before summer break.

Professor Youens had always been a father figure to Lip, even though he’d never say into the man’s face. He helped Lip get into rehab, and then he helped Lip stay clean by sponsoring him and going to AA meetings with him. With the help of Youens, and his family, Lip was able to stay sober and put Mandy behind him, focusing only on his goals.

He never blamed Mandy for his addiction because it was something that he’d always relied on, even if he’d been able to control it before. Though he wished things would have ended differently between them. Lip was a different person now, and although he wasn’t in love with her anymore, there would always be a part of him that cared about her and loved her, because she was the kind of person who never had much of that, and she deserved it.

Until now, his alcoholism had been the one thing that vexed Lip. The one curveball in his life, causing him nothing but regret and misery. That was, of course, until Mickey Milkovich.

Mickey Milkovich was the indefinite thorn in Lip’s side, which irritated him to no end, causing him to scratch until he bled. Mickey was an asshole, which meant something if it was coming from Lip, who was basically crowned ‘King of Assholes’ by everyone who knew him. Working with the guy was already bad enough, but the fact that he was dating Ian, his fucking brother, caused Lip to get migraines if he thought about it too long, and Mickey loved reminding him. Mickey loved explaining to Lip what him and Ian got up to in the bedroom, knowing that it pissed Lip off that they were together.

Lip knew he promised Ian that he’d trust his judgment, but there was something about Mickey that threw him off. There was something about the guy that stirred a familiar feeling in his gut. A feeling that said not to trust Mickey. Though, he didn’t really need his gut to tell him that Mickey was a piece of shit. The guy acted like he was so above everybody else, when obviously he was the least educated out of all of them. He was rude, gross, dumb, and aggressive, and Lip had no idea what his brother saw in Mickey. He really didn’t.

Mickey always knew how to get on Lip’s nerves, and this was proven once again, when on Monday, he tried to criticize Lip on how he was fixing his bike. This caused Lip to go to his habit of mocking Mickey’s intelligence, and explained to him in words he knew Mickey didn’t understand, how he was in fact fixing his bike the right way, and that Mickey should be more concerned about learning basic math, than how Lip was fixing his bike.

However, this seemed to be the last straw for Mickey, because in that moment the dark-haired boy, very calmly, grabbed the monkey wrench he was using and threw it at Lip, barely missing him.

“What the fuck?!” Lip yelped.

“Say one more thing, fucker. I dare you,” Mickey spat, reaching for a socket wrench.

“Fuck, fine! What’s your problem?!”

“I’m sick of your smart-ass bullshit!”

“Are you sure it’s not just me being smart that you have a problem with?”

Mickey threw the socket wrench, hitting Lip in the leg.

“Ow, fuck, stop!”

“No one gives a fuck how smart you are. Look at you, you’re supposed to be some kind of super genius and you’re working right next to me, so maybe get off your fucking high horse.”

“What the hell is going on out here?” Brad questioned, stepping out of his office. He had just returned from paternity leave, and probably wasn’t in the mood to break up a fight between his two adult employees, when he now has a baby to take care of.

“Ask bozo over here. He’s the one talking shit.”

Brad gave an exasperated groan and walked over to Lip and Mickey. He stood between them, that way they’d be less likely to swing at each other. He looked to Lip, “Ok, tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Mickey was trying to tell me what to do-”

“Because he’s doing it wrong!”

“All I said was that he had his own shit to take care of, and to stop worrying about me.”

“Fuck you. Brad, he’s been making me feel like an idiot since he started here.”

“Not like it’s hard,” Lip muttered.

“Hey,” Brad started, but was cut off by Mickey.

“You’re just pissed off that I’m fucking your brother.”

“Yeah, I am because I know he can do better. I honestly don’t know what he sees in you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mickey shook his head, “I don’t even know how you two are related. Ian is literally the nicest guy on the planet, and you’re a bitter asshole.”

“Ian is nice, too nice. It makes him naive. You think you’re the first bad decision he’s been with? When he comes to his senses, he’s going to dump you, and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces like I always am. You think you’re good enough for my brother? You’re fucking not!”

“Ok, maybe let’s take this conversation somewhere else,” Brad suggested.

Lip ignored him, “You’ll never be good enough for him. One day he’s going to wake up and realize he’s been wasting his time with you, because you’re nothing but some dumb ex-con, who only got lucky, because Ian was looking for a rebound.”

Mickey’s jaw was set, and he looked hurt, but he stood his ground, “Ian thinks I’m good enough, so it doesn’t matter what you fucking think of me. Also, if it really bothers you that I’m seeing your brother, than I suggest you get over it, because I’m not planning on leaving him anytime soon,” Mickey said, staring Lip right in the eye. Finally, he looked away and wiped his hands with his rag. He then looked to Brad, “I’m taking my break now.”

Brad gave him a silent nod, and Mickey left the garage.

The rest of the employees went back to work, and Lip bent down to pick up the wrenches Mickey threw at him. He set them down on his works bench, and then looked up at Brad, who was staring at him in what would have best been described as, parental disappointment. He raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Brad shook his head, “Nothin’, man. I just don’t get why you act like that.”

“Act like what?”

“Like you’re better than him.”

Lip huffed out a laugh because it was true. He was better than Mickey. Though, it wasn’t like that was a hard thing to achieve.

“Look,” Brad said, in a serious tone, “just because you come from money, and were able to get an education, doesn’t mean you’re better than anyone around here. Mickey turned his life around after he got out of prison. He stayed out of trouble, and he worked hard to get his GED. He bettered himself for his kid, when there were so many other ways he could have fucked his life up again. He’s a hard worker, and I respect him. I trust him. I don’t think I could say the same about you.”

Lip reeled back like Brad had slapped him. He started to feel a deep sense of regret form in the pit of his stomach. As he felt the shame bubble up into his throat, he tried to backtrack, and rationalize is hate for Mickey, “Ok, maybe I was wrong to say that to him, but I mean, c’mon, Brad. He’s an asshole. He’s a dick to everyone here.”

“Yeah, he is, but he’s not a bad guy to have in your corner.”

And that was it. Lip couldn’t come up with any other defense for his behavior towards Mickey. He couldn’t even bring up Ian, because him and Mickey had made up, and if Lip were honest with himself, he hadn’t seen Ian so happy before.

Maybe that was his problem then. Ever since Ian’s diagnosis, Lip tried everything in his power to bring back the happy wide-eyed boy from their youth, but nothing he did ever sparked the fire Ian had let die in him. But the night they first walked into that bar, for the first time in a long time, Lip saw that spark. A spark that was caused, because of a foul-mouthed Southside boy. He didn’t even know Ian, he didn’t even care, but he got Ian to love life again, and if Lip was honest with himself, he resented Mickey for it. For all his trying and failing to help his brother, some asshole they barely knew, swooped in and gave Ian the thing Lip had always wanted Ian to have. Happiness.

There wasn’t anything special about Mickey Milkovich. He was a rude, sarcastic, violent individual. But Ian found something special in him, and Lip thought his brother was just making his usual bad decision, fueled by a bad breakup and a need for a change. However, Brad, who Lip thought was a levelheaded guy, was scorning him because he what? Said the truth? Lip wracked his brain for the answer to this puzzle. He didn’t understand.

Brad sighed, “Don’t think too hard about it. This isn’t some unknown mystery of the world. The answer is right in front of your face.”

Lip still didn’t understand, so Brad simplified it for him.

“People aren’t just black and white. Mickey isn’t the stupid thug you think he is, just like you’re not the uptight, apathetic, rich asshole, everyone here thinks you are. People aren’t some formula you can figure out. It’s pure emotion, it’s unpredictable, and people can surprise you. You think I liked you when I first met you? I didn’t. I didn’t like Mickey when I first met him either. I only got to liking you guys when I knew more about you.”

Lip felt Brad’s words wash over him in one epiphanic realization. He looked to Brad and nodded wordlessly.

“Just talk to him. Go grab a burger with him or something. Try to understand him. I’m telling you, you two are more alike than you think.”

“Don’t know what I’d even say.”

“Well, first I’d start with an apology,” Brad said as he rolled his eyes.

Lip nodded again, and Brad clasped him on the shoulder, when suddenly Lip heard distinct yelling coming from outside. Both he and Brad looked at each other, confused, when he heard Mickey yelling back. Lip stayed still for a moment, and then said, “Is that Russian?”

“Russian?” Brad looked worried, “Shit.”

“What?”

Eddie peaked out the garage door, “It’s Mickey’s ex again.”

“Fuck,” Brad groaned, as a small boy entered the garage.

The boy, who had bright blue eyes and dirty blond hair, made his way over to Brad. He looked almost sad, but he knew his way around, waving at the employees who greeted him by name.

Brad gave the young boy a sad smile, “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Mom and dad are fighting again.”

Lip looked to Brad for an explanation, and he saw Brad opening his mouth to give him one, when Cami rolled in from the office. She had stopped by to check up on a few things, but was now standing in front of her husband, with her hands on her hips.

“Brad,” she said, not looking pleased at all.

Brad sighed, seeming to know exactly what she was about to say, “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, go take care of it. I don’t want someone calling the cops.”

“The cops are coming?” the little boy questioned, his voice wavering now.

Cami, who seemed to have just noticed the boy standing there, cursed to herself. She smiled at the boy and crouched down to his level, “No, sweetie, they’re not. Brad’s going to go out there and try to calm them down. How about I pull up a chair for you and get you a soda from the back? You can sit here and wait for your dad to come back in, ok?”

The little boy nodded shyly, and Cami smiled while ruffling his hair.

She looked pointedly at Brad as she stood up, “Brad, go fix this. Now.”

Brad gave her a nod and went outside to where Mickey and the screaming Russian woman were.

Lip watched as Cami disappeared into the break room, and Lip was left alone with the boy, Mickey’s son.

The silence stretched on and the fighting could still be heard from outside. The boy looked up at Lip skeptically, sizing him up. In that moment he reminded Lip of Mickey.

“Uh, hi,” Lip said, trying to make conversation.

The boy didn’t speak, but just stared at Lip.

Much to Lip’s relief, Cami came back from the backroom with a chair and a Pepsi.

“Here you go, Yevgeny,” she said, setting the chair down and handing Yevgeny the drink.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cami,” he said as he got settled in.

Cami looked to Lip, and she lowered her voice so that only Lip could hear her, “Look, I gotta get back to Miles. You mind keeping an eye on him until Mickey gets back in here?”

Lip wanted to say no, because if he was honest, the kid was creeping him out. He then remembered what Brad said to him, and he once again realized how big of an asshole he was being. “Yeah, no problem,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, before waving goodbye to Yevgeny, and then she was gone.

“So,” Lip said, making another attempt at conversation, “Mickey’s your dad?”

Yevgeny looked to him, and then after a brief pause, nodded his head.

Lip was again grasping at straws, “That’s cool. You like hanging out with him?”

“Yeah,” Yevgeny said with another nod, “I don’t like when him and my mom fight though.”

Lip could understand that. He always got annoyed when Frank and Monica fought in public.

“Do you have parents that fight?”

Lip was a little taken aback by the question, but he eventually said, “Yeah, I did. When my parents got together that’s all they would do.”

“What did you do about it?”

Lip felt a pang in his chest, when he saw the sad desperation in Yevgeny’s eyes, “Well, I usually just hung out with my brothers and sisters. They made me feel not so alone. Though, I’d usually go hang out with my brother Ian. We’d build pillow forts and read comic books until our parent stopped yelling.”

Yevgeny furrowed his brow, “Ian?”

“Yeah, uh, the guy your dad is seeing now.”

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up, “Ian’s your brother?!”

Lip laughed a little, “Yeah, he is.”

“Ian is so cool! I like him a lot.”

Lip smiled, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yevgeny beamed, but then his smile faltered, “I don’t have any brothers and sisters though.”

“You have any friends you can talk about this to?”

The boy thought for a moment, “I have Amy and Gemma. They’re my friends.”

“See? You’re not alone.”

Yevgeny crossed his arms in a huff, “Still doesn’t make the fighting go away.”

“Well, have you tried talking about it to your parents?”

Yevgeny shook his head.

“Well, maybe you can start there. Try talking to your parents one at a time, or maybe together.”

Yevgeny looked apprehensive, “I’ll try.”

“Hey, sometimes that’s all we can do,” he said, and then his eyes locked on to a bruise that was forming on Yevgeny’s arm. Red flags went up immediately. “So, where’d you get that from?”

Yevgeny shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I got into a fight with this kid, Eric Fergusson. I gave him and his brother black eyes,” he looked up to Lip pleadingly, “Don’t tell dad. He said I wasn’t allowed to fight anymore, but those guys are bullies.”

Lip gave the young boy a half smirk, “I get it. Y’know, Ian used to fight all his bullies on his own?”

Yevgeny’s eyes brightened at that, “He did?”

“Yeah, he’s tough. You’re tough too.”

“And daddy. Dad’s super tough.”

Lip nodded in agreement, “That he is.”

“Dad says he’s got a bully at work. A big smarty-pants guy. You know who that is?”

Lip blinked at the thought of Mickey calling him a bully, or at least that’s how he explained it to his son. Lip rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “I think he might have been talking about me.”

Yevgeny furrowed his brow, “You?”

“Yeah, well,” he stammered. He had no idea how to explain this to Mickey’s six-year-old son. He eventually decided not to make excuses anymore, and sighed, “Yeah. I’ve… I’ve been a real jerk to your dad.”

“Why?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why? After being told off by Ian and Brad, Lip didn’t have a good answer for it, so he just said, “I don’t know.”

“Dad says people bully because they don’t like themselves.”

Another cold splash of truth hit him in the face. He couldn’t believe he was getting lectured by a child, but maybe since he’d been acting like one, Lip deserved this, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“He isn’t wrong.”

“Why don’t you like yourself?”

Lip shrugged, and Yevgeny narrowed his eyes at him.

“That’s a stupid answer. You can’t just be a meanie, cus’ you want to. That’s bad, you’re bad.”

Lip opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to respond to that.

“Ian’s too nice to be your brother. He watches movies with me and plays with me. He gives my daddy lots of kisses and makes him smile. You’re mean, and a bully.”

Lip started to feel the shame bubble up inside him again. He couldn’t believe he was getting roasted this hard by someone who probably wrote their y’s backwards. He coughed into his fist, “You’re right. Ian is the nice brother. I’ll try to be better.”

“You better,” Yevgeny warned.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be mean to your dad. I don’t mean to be a bully. Sometimes we adults get mad, and we take it out on other people. Does that make sense?”

Yevgeny looked as if he was thinking about it, and then he nodded.

“That doesn’t make it ok though.”

“I know. I think you can get better though. Dad says he used to be a bully, but then he stopped.”

“Yeah,” Lip smiled, “I hope you’re right,” he said as another shouting match came from outside.

Yevgeny looked down at his lap, “Wish I had my bag. I wanna color. I don’t wanna go out there though.”

Lip sighed, as he watched the young boy fidget in his seat. He wished that Mickey and Yevgeny’s mother could see that their fighting was affecting their son. He knew how parents fighting could get scary for a small child. He’d been front row to some of Frank and Monica’s worst fights, so he got it, “Hey, I’ll go get it for you.”

“You will?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, and then made his way out of the garage. He walked over to the alleyway to see a very attractive Russian woman, yelling at Mickey, who just stood there, with his fists balled up, and Brad was just standing there, not really knowing how to intervene.

The woman had her arms crossed now, “You’re saying you don’t want your child?”

Mickey was wide eyed and exasperated, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration, “No, that isn’t what I’m saying!”

“This is what it sounds like.”

“I’m saying that I dropped him off at your house yesterday, and-”

“Now I need you to watch him.”

“It’s your week!”

“I have a client. I work, you work. I can’t take him to my job, so you must watch him.”

“I had plans tonight.”

“Plans to what? Play ass fuck with orange boy?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he said in a low, deep voice.

The woman didn’t back down, but got closer into Mickey’s face, “I know you care more about getting fucked, than caring for your own child.”

“That is not true!”

“It is true!”

“I can’t support him full time right now, Svet! On top of all the other shit I have to pay for, I’m already paying you child support, _and_ the tuition for his camp! The fuck do you want me to do?!”

“I have to work! I have to keep food on table! I advise you to remove your head from your ass!”

“Why is it you’re the only one that has to work? Where the fuck is your boyfriend in all of this?”

“Yvon watches Yevgeny, I pay bills. It works like this.”

“Oh yeah, it seems to be working real well now. He isn’t even here!”

This caused Svetlana to go quiet, so Mickey continued.

“He’s not even here, Svet. All he does is sit around your house and drink. And don’t think I haven’t seen those bruises on your arms, when I dropped Yevgeny off yesterday.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking abo-”

Mickey cut her off, by pulling her denim jacket off he shoulders, revealing her bruised arms, “It’s eighty degrees outside. Look at your arms.”

Svetlana pushed him back, “Fuck you.”

“When I was helping Yev out of the car, I saw a bruise on his arm. I swear to god, Svetlana, if that prick’s put one hand on my kid, I’m going to go fucking homicidal.”

“He hasn’t!”

“I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll chop his hands off and bury him where no one will ever find him, and then I’m gonna make one phone call and get your ass deported.”

“I go, and my Yevgeny goes with me,” she snarls.

“Like fuck he will! He’s a U.S. citizen! The courts will give him to me! I’ll fucking fight for him!”

“Courts will not give him to criminal scum, like you.”

“Right, no, they’ll just hand him over to a Russian prostitute.”

“I am his mother!”

“Well then maybe you should start fucking acting like it!”

That seemed to be the last straw for Svetlana, as she pushed Mickey up against the side of a wall, with her elbow dug into his chest, and a knife brandished at his throat, “You listen to me, you little Ukrainian pussy. I raised my son for four years, while you were in prison. Four year, without you. I am the parent that was there when he first talked, crawled, and walked. You were not here. This makes me better, yes?”

Lip, who’s eyes were wide, looked to Brad. He mouthed, “Police?”

Brad shook his head, and held up his finger to Lip, and then he looked to Mickey and Svetlana, “Ok, maybe we should put the knife down.”

Mickey didn’t move, his eyes trained on Svetlana’s. He didn’t look scared, but angry, “Just because I wasn’t here, doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”

“Really, guys, unless you want the police to show up-”

“Bring police here then,” Svetlana said, keeping a firm grip on her knife.

“You really want to do that with Yevgeny inside? You want to make him watch both of his parents get arrested?”

Svetlana faltered, like she was just realizing what she was doing. She then let Mickey go and stepped back.

Mickey and Svetlana were still glaring at each other, when Lip cleared his throat, causing both of them along with Brad to look up at him, “He can hear you fighting, y’know? So, maybe stop. It’s making him upset.”

Svetlana narrowed her eyes, “Who are you?’

“Uh, Lip. I work here.”

“Go back to work then. This is not your concern.”

“I know, but, uh, your kid. He wanted me to get his bag for him. He wants his coloring book.”

This seemed to break the tension, as both Mickey and Svetlana broke their stare. Svetlana slipped her knife back into her pocket.

Brad breathed a sigh of relief, “Ok,” he said, rubbing his face with his hands, “Look, this can’t keep going on. It’s fine if you bring Yevgeny here to hang out, but I don’t want this shit happening anymore. So, Svetlana, next time you drop him off, don’t even get out of the car. Mickey, don’t go outside to meet her. If you guys want to act like you’re on fucking Jerry Springer, go ahead. Just do it off the clock from now on, ok?”

“Fine by me,” Mickey grumbled.

“Fine,” Svetlana agreed, bending down to pick up Yevgeny’s backpack. She then shoved it at Mickey, “This is not the end of our conversation. I’ll be back by to pick Yevgeny up around ten.”

“Whatever,” Mickey sneered, taking the backpack, “Have fun fucking geriatric patients.”

Svetlana flipped him off as she walked away.

When she left, Brad said, “Here, I’ll take it in to him, if you need a minute.”

Mickey nodded wordlessly, handing Yevgeny’s bag to Brad.

Lip stood still as Brad passed him, “I think I’m gonna take my break now,” he said.

Brad glanced over at Mickey, who was still fuming, and then back to Lip, “Your funeral,” he said, and then walked back into the garage.

Lip watched as Mickey paced around, not even realizing that Lip was still in the alley.

Mickey paced a few more steps, before hitting the side of the brick wall, his palms glued to the spot as Mickey rested there, his head hanging between his shoulders. After a few seconds, he pushed himself off the wall, and then looked up to finally see Lip, “The fuck do you want?”

“Wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Mickey laughed, but not in a humorous way, “Sure.”

“Actually, it was your kid that wanted me to come out here to get his stuff, but Brad’s already taken it in.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I already said. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Look, don’t try to be buddy buddy with me. Brad probably ripped you a new one, and good for him, but I don’t need your fucking friendship.”

Lip nodded, “Alright then,” he turned around to go back, but then stopped. He wasn’t going to make it that easy for Mickey to get rid of him, “Actually,” he said, turning back to Mickey.

“What the fuck is it now?”

“Look, I’m sorry. What I said back there was really uncalled for.”

“Yeah, you think?”

“Hey, I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

“Good, cus’ it’ll be a cold day in hell, before you get it.”

“I just wanted you to know, that I was sorry.”

“Great. You can leave now.”

Lip then said something that he knew Mickey wouldn’t be able to brush off, “I know where Yevgeny got that bruise from. I asked him about it, and he told me.”

Mickey looked to him, his eyes burning with silent rage, “Where?”

“He got it fighting some kid. Eric, I think he said his name was?”

Mickey let out a sigh of relief, as he fished out a cigarette, “Man, I fuckin’ told that kid to quit fighting. You teach him one self-defense move, and now he thinks he’s fucking Bruce Lee.”

“I told him I wouldn’t tell you, but I thought you should know. That way you wouldn’t have to chop off anybody’s hands.”

Mickey nodded, lighting his cigarette, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I’m not a bad parent,” Mickey said then, looking away.

“Never said you were.”

“Also, I’m not some violent criminal. I got locked up for selling stolen computers, so I could buy things like diapers, and baby clothes, and a crib, because my ex-wife was pregnant with our son, and I didn’t have any money, or a job, or a degree. So, I got caught and served four years, only being able to see my son with cuffs around my hands and feet. I’d fucking take it back if I could, but I can’t, so I gotta just move on and be here for him now.

Oh, and I’m not a fucking idiot. I know how to read, and I have my GED. How do you think I was able to get this job? Look, I don’t know if you know this, but not everyone can be as smart as you. Sorry, It may look like I’m stupid, because I can’t process shit fast enough for you, but It’s actually the result of a brain injury, caused by my father after he cracked my skull open for being queer. So, don’t try to act like you know anything about me because you know fuck all.”

“Fuck,” Lip said, “I didn’t kn-”

“Of course, you didn’t fucking know! Why would I tell you?!” Mickey snapped.

“Does Ian know?”

“Yeah, Ian knows.”

“What do you know about him?” Lip questioned, not trying to be an asshole. He truly wanted to know. He wanted to know what all Ian trusted him with. He wanted to know just how serious he and Mickey were.

“This some kind of trick question?”

“No.”

Mickey stared at him for a moment, before saying, “He told me about getting discharged from the Army and becoming a stripper.”

“That it?”

“He told me about the country club.”

Lip tensed at the mention of that. When Ian finally agreed to hospitalization and he’d gotten used to his medication, he sat Lip and Fiona down and told them everything. He officially came out to them and explained where he’d been for those few months after the Army. Finally, he got to the country club, and it took everything in Lip not to get up and kill every single person who ever touched his brother with his bare hands. Ian explained what had happened when their father would drag them to parties and social events, and while the rest of the Gallagher siblings would mull around bored, Ian was being manipulated by old men. One of them being the father of Fiona’s fiancé, Jimmy. And, although Lip promised he wouldn’t go after any of the men that had sex with Ian, that didn’t stop Jimmy from finding out, and punching his dad for fucking his fiancé’s then fifteen-year-old brother.

“It’s fucking disgusting that was allowed to go on for as long as it did,” Mickey said, and Lip nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it was.”

“When did you find out about it?”

“After we brought Ian home after the whole Army thing. So, that’s it? That’s all he told you?”

“He talked about your dad being an asshole, and about his mom, but not much. Why, is there something I should know?”

Lip shook his head, “Not anything that he can’t tell you himself,” he said, and in the back of his mind he wondered why Ian hadn’t told Mickey about his bipolar disorder. If anything, that should have been the first thing he told Mickey, but Lip wouldn’t say anything, because he trusted that Ian had a good reason to delay that sort of information.

“Great,” Mickey muttered, flicking the butt of his cigarette, “Is my interrogation over now? I need to get back to work.”

“Hey, we’re just talking.”

“Just talkin’? Bet we were also just talkin’ in the garage when you decided to berate me in front of everybody, huh?”

Lip scoffed, “C’mon, man. I said I was sorry.”

“Oh, and that just makes it all fuckin’ rainbows and sunshine then?”

“Like you weren’t an asshole to me first.”

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“The night Ian and I first went to the Alibi; you were a total prick.”

“Ok, and?”

“You insulted Ian, calling him, what was it? ‘Faggedy Anne’?”

Mickey smiled as if he were remembering something nostalgic, “Yeah, that was a good one. I came up with that on the spot.”

Lip rolled his eyes, “That’s great. You still made him feel like shit for being gay.”

“Oh, fuck you, no I didn’t. He knew I was gay too, that’s why he came back to the bar to look for me. Just admit it, college boy, you were just pissed about the shit I said to _you_. I made fun of how you dressed and that you went to school and it pissed you off, because no one has ever put down the great Lip Gallagher. God forbid someone put your prissy Northside ass into place.”

“You think you know me, Mickey, you don’t,” Lip said coolly.

“No, I think I do. Cushy little life you got, not having to worry about shit. You got it all, don’t you? You got the brains, and the money. Good for you.”

“Fuck you, Milkovich. I’m not like some fucking trust fund kid, solely relying on my father’s money. I bet you just think I have a silver spoon sticking out of my mouth.”

“No, but I do think you have one firmly shoved up your ass. It would explain why you’re so fucking bitchy all the time.”

“You know Ian’s had the same life too.”

“Ian’s been through a lot,” Mickey shot back.

“So, have I! We all have!”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey laughed, throwing his cigarette on the ground, and stomping on it, “Does your shoulder ever get tired from the massive chip you carry around on it?”

“You don’t even know,” Lip shook his head, fully realizing now that Ian had told Mickey virtually nothing about what their parents put all of them through, “How much did Ian tell you about Frank and Monica?”

“Monica?”

 _‘Ian didn’t even tell him her name’_ , Lip thought angrily. “Our mother.”

“Oh.”

“What did he say about them?”

“What is this, another round of twenty questions?”

“Just give me an answer, asshole.”

“Holy fuck, fine. He didn’t tell me much. Just that your dad is a drunk and an asshole, and that your mom died of brain cancer. The fuck are you going on about?”

“The fact that Ian hasn’t told you shit about our parents.”

“So what? I don’t talk about mine.”

“Yeah, but he’s doing it so you won’t find out about how fucked up we all are, because of them.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Look, I get that your dad’s a prick, and that your mom got sick, but that don’t give you the right to walk around with a pity card.”

“Did Ian say how our mother was sick?”

“Yeah, brain cancer.”

“No,” Lip said, impatiently, “I’m talking about her bipolar disease. Did he mention that?”

“Her bi-what? The fuck is a bipolar disease?”

“It’s a mental disorder. Manic depression? It makes someone go off the walls with energy, and then they crash, getting so depressed they can’t get out of bed for days. It can be dangerous if not treated, and it can cause hallucination is some cases.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “So, your mom had this bipolar thing? Why is that important?”

“Because, asshole, this is why I am the way I am! It’s because of her! Our mother was a crazy psycho bitch, who didn’t medicate herself! She made our lives hell! And, I’m pissed, because Ian is once again covering for her ass!”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Calm down. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. My mom was a mess too. Bet you could have avoided her in one of the many rooms in your mansion sized house.”

“Will you stop saying that! No amount of money could have fixed her! This wasn’t a money issue! Just because we have it, doesn’t mean we didn’t have problems!”

Mickey crossed his arms, seemingly unaffected by Lip’s yelling, “What did she do that was so bad?”

Lip stopped. He had to collect himself because no one had ever really asked him that before. None of them talked about Monica, and no one seemed interested enough in their lives or wellbeing to bring it up, “A lot of things,” he said finally.

“Like what?”

“Well, one time when I was thirteen, my mother had gotten so drunk at a social event she made me drive her home. I didn’t even know how. I’m lucky I didn’t crash.”

“Ok, that doesn’t seem so bad.”

“When my older sister Fiona was a kid, our mom would make her compete in beauty pageants. She’d pick a fight with one of the beauty contestant’s mom every year. One year, she ripped some lady’s hair out, and they banned Fiona from competing.”

“Ok, well that’s-”

“There was the time she went on an impromptu trip with Carl to New York, and then left him there to go party in Vegas. He was only five.”

Mickey didn’t comment on that.

“Or how about the time she got my little sister Debbie drunk on strawberry daiquiris for the first time, when she was only seven? Oh, Oh! How about the time she thought the FBI were trying to steal her baby, so she hid my brother Liam in the oven, and then completely forgot about him. Good fucking thing our nanny at the time checked the oven, before she started preheating it for dinner!” Lip couldn’t stop. He could tell Mickey was getting uncomfortable, but he couldn’t stop. It was like word vomit pouring out of his mouth, “What about the time she let Ian lay in the backyard with a broken clavicle for hours, before Fiona found him and we had to rush him to the hospital?”

Mickey’s eyes widened at that, “What?”

Lip stopped to look at Mickey. He looked scared, and a little part of Lip felt good about that. It was finally something other than annoyance, “He was twelve. We’d all been out doing other things, but Ian stayed home. He told us he was outside playing and decided to climb the tree Fiona always told us not to climb, and he fell out of it and broke his collarbone. None of us knew about it until we all came home for dinner and noticed he was missing. We checked the house all over, and when we couldn’t find him, we went outside and could hear him crying from the backyard for someone to help him. He was crying out for our mom. Guess where she was? Passed out drunk on the couch. She didn’t even notice or care that Ian had been gone since noon.”

“What the fuck?!” Mickey looked livid, “Why didn’t anyone call DCFS?”

Lip scoffed, “And tell them what? We came from money, we had a good education, and wealthy parents. Like they’d give a fuck. Even if they were suspicious, I’m sure Frank would have thought of a way to lie to child services to make it look like we lived in a loving home.”

“What?! That’s… that’s…,” Mickey was so pissed, he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

“Unfair? Yeah, I know.”

Mickey stopped his seething to look at Lip. He seemed to understand now, “What about your dad?”

“What about him?”

“What does he do? I know Ian and your other brother Carl hate him, and if Ian is fine letting that shit with his mom slide, I want to know what Frank does to make Ian hate him so much.”

“He’s just a drunk. He is a self-centered, controlling, manipulative, unempathetic, drug addicted, alcoholic.”

“He ever get violent when he drinks?”

“Sometimes.”

“He ever hit you?”

“No, not me,” Lip said, implying that Frank directed his violence to someone else.

Mickey seemed to notice, “He hit the women? Your mom, or your sisters?”

“No.”

It then dawned on Mickey what Lip was trying to get across. The look on Mickey’s face was pained and defeated, when he said, “He hits Ian.”

It wasn’t a question. Lip didn’t confirm, but instead said, “I think you might want to talk to Ian, if you want to know more.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“Oh, and Mickey.”

“Yeah?”

“When I say I’m sorry, I really mean it. I was just upset about a lot of things and I took it out on you. I’m upset about my parents, I’m jealous that you bring something out of Ian that no one else has ever been able to, but mostly it’s because you remind me of someone I used to date. She was Southside too. You’re a lot like her, and it freaked me out. All I ever wanted was for my brother to be happy and safe. I really hope he can find that with you.”

Mickey stared at him for a moment, something had shifted in his demeanor, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was silent then. Both boys were staring at the ground, and it seemed like that was the end of the conversation, when Lip heard Mickey say, “I’m sorry.”

Lip’s head shot up because he almost thought he heard Mickey apologize to him, “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, asshole,” Mickey sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “I get it. Not the whole thing with your mom, but I know what it’s like to have a piece of shit for a father. Must have been hard, feeling like you couldn’t say you were being abused because you had money. It’s kinda the same thing here, except people don’t give a shit if you have bad parents, cus’ that’s what they expect from around here. It’s like two sides of the same shitty coin.”

Lip felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He never had someone validate his feelings about his parents before. It felt good, it felt like he wasn’t crazy. Lip nodded, feeling himself smile a bit, “Sometimes I think it’s the one’s in the middle that are really the lucky stiffs,” he said, quoting a book he’d read in middle school.

“The Outsiders,” Mickey smiled, “That’s a good book, man. Can you quote that whole thing by heart?”

“Just the parts I think are important. Like this one,” he said, and then cleared his throat, “Things were rough all over, but it was better that way. That way you could tell the other guy was human too.”

Mickey nodded his head, “Yeah, Yeah I guess that’s true,” he said, looking to Lip with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, and another thing. I don’t coast off my dad’s money. I might have been born smart, but I worked my ass off to get into the school I’m in now. I was taking all sorts of advanced classes and going to science camp during the summers when I was a kid. Academics are my life. I didn’t just let my dad pay my way, I worked to get there.”

Mickey seemed to understand this, “It took me like six times to pass for my GED.”

Lip laughed, but not in a mocking way, “What did you have like a punch card, or something? Take it five times, and the sixth time you get your GED, also this free t-shirt.”

Mickey scoffed as he walked back towards the garage with Lip, “I fucking wish they would had thrown in a free t-shirt.”

* * *

Work went smoothly after that. Mickey knew it wasn’t perfect between him and Lip, but it was a hell of a lot better than what it had been earlier that day.

When Ian came by to pick Mickey up, he was delighted to see that Yevgeny was going to be joining them. Why wouldn’t he be? Ian was great with Yevgeny, and he loved hanging out with the kid. It made Mickey want to melt every time he saw Ian bond with his son.

Mickey decided on going Patsy’s, and to his surprise, Ian knew the place. Something about his sister buying it, but Ian hadn’t ever been inside. Sandy was there to take their order, and Mickey watched in a dazed happiness as Ian and Yevgeny laughed while dipping their french-fries in their milkshakes.

Halfway through the meal, Ian reached his hand under the table to hold Mickey’s and Mickey blushed.

He shouldn’t have felt embarrassed holding Ian’s hand, especially if no one could see, but Ian’s affection did things to him. It made him feel weird inside, but it was a good kind of weird. Christ, when did he turn into such a chick?

When they got back to the house, Mickey put on cartoons for Yevgeny, and they all watched tv together until Yevgeny fell asleep on the couch. Mickey slipped a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket, before turning off the tv and guiding Ian to his bedroom.

They were both stripped of their clothes and on each other in minutes. It had been a rough day, and Mickey expelled all his frustrations, by aggressively riding Ian into the mattress. Needless to say, it didn’t take very long for either of them to reach orgasm.

Mickey had one hand on the wall, holding himself up as he bounced up and down on Ian’s cock, and he had the other hand twisting and pulling at his own dick. Mickey bit his lip hard, trying to keep his voice down.

That must have set Ian off, because he cums right then and there, filling the condom as he moaned out, “Mickey.”

Mickey stopped, but he continued to jerk himself off, and then in one fluid motion, he felt Ian hoist him up a bit, and flip him over, making Mickey gasp.

Ian kissed Mickey as he pulled out. He went for Mickey’s neck, slapping the older boy’s hand away, continuing his assault on Mickey. He then moved down to his chest, and then his stomach, following Mickey’s happy trail. He smirked up at Mickey, before taking him into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Ian,” Mickey groaned, biting so hard on his lip, he thought it might bleed.

Ian continued to blow Mickey, and then out of nowhere, slipped two fingers into the boy below.

Mickey opened his mouth in a silent scream as he came violently down Ian’s throat, seeing stars.

When he finally settled down, he noticed that Ian was next to him now, kissing his neck again. In a sudden burst of affection, Mickey cupped Ian’s jaw and drew him into a proper kiss. They stayed like that for a few minutes before they broke apart and Mickey settled into Ian’s arms.

He watched Ian’s chest rise and fall as they cuddled. His eyes skimmed over Ian’s body, and counted his lucky stars that a guy as hot as Ian was even interested in him. Mickey’s eyes then stopped on Ian’s collarbone, and it made him think of the story Lip had told him earlier today. Then, suddenly, he was thinking of a young Ian, crying out into the night, hoping someone would find him after hours of agonizing pain. It made him feel sick to his stomach that Ian even had to go through that, and then there was the stuff with his dad.

It pissed Mickey off because he knew Ian. Ian, the guy who’d stop to help anyone in need. Ian, the guy who was so sweet and positive. His Ian, being mistreated by both his parents, having to suffer alone. It made Mickey want to punch something, but instead he focused on his anger and transformed it into something else. He then leaned into Ian’s side, facing him, and running feather like kisses across his clavicle.

Ian looked down at Mickey, clearly amused, “Someone’s extra affectionate today.”

Mickey ignored him as he rubbed his hand over Ian’s chest. He nuzzled Ian’s neck.

Ian laughed a little, kissing the top of Mickey’s head, “Wanna tell me what I did to deserve this lovely lovely treatment, hm?”

Mickey stopped, and then said, “I talked to your brother today.”

Ian sighed and rolled his eyes, “What did he say to you this time? I swear to god, I’m going to kick his-”

“No, uh, it wasn’t that. Well, we did get into it earlier this morning, but we talked it out.”

“Yeah?” Ian said mildly surprised.

“Yeah, we actually talked about your mother,” Mickey said, not looking up to meet Ian’s eyes.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Mickey murmured, as he rubbed at Ian’s clavicle with his thumb, staring at it like he could take the memory away from Ian, “just stories.”

It took a moment for it all to click, but when it did, Ian groaned, “He told you the fucking collarbone story, didn’t he?”

It was a question that didn’t need an answer, so all Mickey said was, “Ian, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Ian must have heard the genuine worry in Mickey’s voice, because he lifted Mickey’s chin to stare deep into his eyes, “Mickey, hey, it’s ok. _I’m_ ok.”

“I know, but still… fuck, man. Your brothers and sisters too. I just,” Mickey stopped, not knowing how to express his emotions to Ian. He wanted Ian to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he had shit parents too, but he’d never had to deal with that. Maybe from his dad, but not his mom. Mickey didn’t even know why Ian would defend his mother after all the shit she put them through.

Ian sighed, “Mickey, it was eleven years ago. My mom, she was fucked up, but she was also sick. She should have gotten on meds, but she didn’t think anything was wrong with her. Besides, it wasn’t like she pushed me out of that tree herself.”

“She should have been watching you, Ian. She should have known something was wrong when you’d been missing for hours.”

“I know, Fiona felt the same way. None of my siblings ever really bonded with my mom like I did. She was a lot to handle most of the time, but it’s ok, really. My mom is dead now, and despite it all, I still miss her.”

Mickey shook his head in amazement, “Fuck, you’re a better man than me. I could never do it, live with someone like that. She sounds like she was fucking nightmare,” he muttered, and then immediately felt Ian tense up. He looked up to see Ian completely devastated, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say the about her. I know you two were close.”

“No, I get it,” he said in an almost whisper, “Why _would_ you want to be with someone like her?”

A silence fell between them and Mickey couldn’t shake the feeling that he said something to upset Ian. He ignored it, however, as he rubbed his hand over Ian’s chest again. He then leaned over to kiss Ian’s collarbone.

“Did you two talk about anything else?” Ian questioned after about five minutes of silence.

Mickey shifted a little, feeling anger rise in him, “Yeah.”

“About what?”

“Your dad.”

Ian looked distant, “My dad?”

“Yeah,” Mickey said, bring his hand up to Ian’s chin, guiding him to look Mickey in the eyes, “Ian does your dad hit you?”

Ian looked as if Mickey knocked the breath out of him, as his eyes widened a bit. It was like Ian had never expected Mickey to find out. He looked so vulnerable and scared, that Mickey was half expecting Ian to get up and leave. Instead, Ian steadied his breathing, and then he nodded, “He doesn’t really do it anymore. I think it’s because he knows I could beat the shit out of him now, but as a kid…” he trailed off, letting his eyes slip shut. It took Mickey a small moment to realize, that Ian was trying not to cry.

Mickey wanted to throttle Frank. He looked at Ian, and all he’s been through as a child, with his parents, and as a teenager at the country club, and then as an adult, just kicked out of the army and at a loss for what to do next. Mickey wanted it to go away. The pain Ian felt, he wanted to take it all away. In all his life, Mickey didn’t believe that rich people deserved any sympathy. Why should they? They had their money, more than they knew what to do with. Yet, after listening to Lip, and seeing Ian go through the roller-coaster of emotions at just mentioning what his parent did to him, Mickey decided that money couldn’t buy love, and that it couldn’t by compassion. Mickey’s father was a disgusting, evil man, and all though his mother clearly had her faults, she was someone Mickey and his siblings could go to for comfort. Ian couldn’t do that; he never had that parent. Luckily, Ian had an older sister, who cared for him, but still, it wasn’t the same.

Mickey rubbed Ian’s jaw, trying to sooth him the best he could.

Ian opened his eyes, staring deep into Mickey’s, “It was bad as a kid.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know why he singled me out, but he did. Fiona said it was because I looked a lot like mom, and that bothered him, especially when she’d walk out on us. I think it was because of all the attention she’d give me when he wanted her to himself. I was always the closest to her, even when I was a kid.”

“Ian, what did he do?”

Ian let out a shaky breath, “It started off as slapping. If I would get mouthy with him, he’d backhand me. He didn’t do it often, just when he was super hammered, or when Monica would piss him off. Then when I got a little older, he’d punch me. He’s broken my nose twice. One time he got pissed and pushed me into the side of the stair rail, and I hit my head on it. Luckily, mom was there, and she beat the shit out of him with a frying pan,” Ian said with a humorless chuckle, “Fiona and Lip helped me clean the blood up, and stayed with me to make sure I didn’t have a concussion.”

“Ian.”

Ian shook his head roughly, wiping away at the tears, “I’m ok now. It’s not near as bad as what you’ve went through.”

“Fuck, man, who cares? You’ve been through hell. It doesn’t matter what I’ve been through. That doesn’t change all the fucked up shit that happened to you, Ok? C’mere,” he said, pulling Ian in for a hug.

Ian let his guard down then, sobbing into Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey cradled him, soothing the back of Ian’s head with his hand. He couldn’t help but feel like shit. This was supposed to be a celebration for Ian, and now Mickey’s nosiness had reduced Ian to tears, “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Ian pulled back to look at Mickey, eyes bloodshot from crying, “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one that asked. I didn’t mean to make you cry. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to end.”

Ian shook his head, and cupped Mickey’s face. He gave the older boy a watery smile, “It’s ok, Mickey, thank you.”

Mickey surged forward and kissed him.

Ian accepted, letting Mickey into his mouth. They kissed until Ian pulled away, breathing heavily, “I never shared this with any of the guys I was with, even my last boyfriend. I don’t think they would have cared, but you do. Thank you for caring,” he gave Mickey a chaste kiss, “Best night ever, ok?”

“If crying about your shit parents is your idea of a great night, then I’m terrified to know what a bad night for you would be,” he joked, causing Ian to laugh. Mickey was about to kiss him again, when he heard a knock at the door, “Probably Svet,” he sighed, getting up to put clothes on.

When Mickey got to the living room, Svetlana had already let herself in.

“Unsafe to leave doors unlocked, no? Bad people might come in.”

“Yeah, clearly,” he said, gesturing to Svetlana.

Svetlana rolled her eyes, “You just leave him out here, while you fuck your little carrot boy?”

“He’s fine. I didn’t leave him, until he fell asleep. Also, he literally sleeps on the couch at your place, so shut the fuck up. He’s been fed, bathed, and now he’s sleeping. Don’t fucking try to make me look bad.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Whatever,” he snapped, “I’m not doing this with you now.”

“Fine,” she said, walking over to the couch. She crouched down in front of Yevgeny and started to wake him up gently.

Yevgeny’s eyes fluttered open, and he yawned, “Mama?”

Svetlana smiled lovingly down at her son, “Yes, my baby, it is time to go back home now.”

Yevgeny nodded, and sat himself up.

“Did you have a good time?”

Yevgeny grinned, “We went to Patsy’s and I got waffles with eggs, and extra bacon, and then me, dad, and Ian came back here and watched SpongeBob.”

“My my, that sounds fun,” she said, peppering kisses all over his face.

Yevgeny giggled.

Mickey watched the display before him and felt a deep sense of regret. He realized now that maybe he shouldn’t have said some of the things he said to her today. He walked up to them, “Yeah, we had fun, didn’t we?”

Yevgeny nodded, but then warily glanced between his mother and father, “Are you guys still fighting?”

“No,” Mickey answered, causing Svetlana to look up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Good, cus’ I don’t like it when you fight,” he murmured, letting himself fall back asleep.

“Here, I’ll carry him out to the car,” Mickey said, and then scooped his son up into his arms.

Svetlana gave him a nod, picking up Yevgeny’s bag and following Mickey out to the car. She waited for him to buckle up Yevgeny, before putting the blue backpack in next to him. He was asleep again before Svetlana shut the door. She turned to Mickey, who was now leaned up against the car, “Thank you,” she said, surprising Mickey, “for watching him.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said, pulling out a cigarette he had in his pocket.

“It seemed to be a problem this morning.”

Mickey rolled his eyes as he lit up, “I had a shit morning,” he said, before sucking on the end of his cigarette.

“Oh, yes, this makes it better. All is forgiven now.”

“I shouldn’t have told you I was going to deport you. That was a fucked-up thing to say. I wouldn’t separate you and Yevgeny. You’re a good mom.”

Svetlana crossed her arms over her chest, “Yes, I am,” she affirmed, but then said, “You are not a _complete_ piece of shit.”

Mickey blew out some smoke, “You’re the worst,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. He looked over to Yevgeny sleeping in the car, “We gotta be better though. No matter how we fucking feel about each other we have to make it work. For him.”

Svetlana followed his gaze to the window, “Yes,” she agreed, “for him.”

Mickey nodded before handing off his cigarette to Svetlana for her to finish it.

Svetlana took it, before saying, “Better get back to your gay boy party.”

“Fuck off,” he said, before turning away. He got halfway up the stairs before he turned around, “Hey, Svet!”

Svetlana looked up at him, as she was about to get into her car.

“Try not to get any more of those bruises on you. It’s the middle of July, and it’s too hot to be wearing long-sleeved shit.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously? I know what I’m talking about, Svet. I had to deal with the same thing when I found out about Mandy’s boyfriend, Kenyatta. Don’t let yourself get treated like that all for some stupid guy.”

Svetlana stayed quiet for a moment, and then said, “Stupid guy who pays half the rent.”

“With what fucking money?”

“I don’t ask.”

“Svetlana.”

“Look, I have it covered, alright?”

Mickey crossed his arms over his chest, as he looked over at Yevgeny one last time, “For his sake, I hope you’re right.”

Svetlana didn’t answer after that. Instead she just got in her car and left.

Mickey sighed, and then trudged up the rest of the stairs and into the house. When he finally made it back to his bedroom, he found Ian laying there asleep. Mickey smiled to himself, and then turned out the light. He then shut the door, stripped off his clothes, and got into bed next to Ian.

After all the bullshit that day, Mickey felt all of it melt away as he felt Ian adjust, and maneuver himself, to wrap his arms around Mickey. He then let his eyes slip shut, and enjoyed the feeling of being held by Ian, before succumbing to a deep sleep.

The next day after work, Mickey decided to invite Lip to go to the Alibi with him. He had decided that if Lip was willing to meet him halfway, then he would at least try to make an effort.

As they walked to the bar, Mickey kept feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He decided to ignore it, and once they made it to the Alibi, Mickey stayed outside to call whoever it was that’d been trying to get ahold of him. He looked down at his phone to see it was Mandy. What the hell did she want?

Mickey dialed his sister’s number and waited for her to pick up.

_“Finally! I tried calling you like three times.”_

“I was talking with someone. What’s up?”

_“Where are you? I thought we were doing a Hell Raiser marathon and eating this huge bag of candy until we puke. Halloween in July, remember?”_

Mickey smacked himself in the forehead. He completely forgot he was going to hang out with Mandy after work.

_“Are you serious, Mickey? You forgot?”_

“Look, the past few days have been a little hectic, fucking sue me.”

_“What are you doing that’s so important? Ian is at his house.”_

“I’m at the Alibi. I invited his brother, Lip, out for a few drinks.”

There was a short silence before Mandy answered again, _“Lip?”_

“Yeah, I know, it’s a stupid fucking name. Like either use Philip or Phil, you’re not special.”

 _“Right,”_ Mandy mumbled, sounding a little off.

Mickey rolled his eyes. His sister could be so dramatic, “Look, we’ll do the movie thing when I get back. Just give me like two hours, ok?”

 _“Yeah, ok,”_ his sister said, in an unusually soft way.

Mickey furrowed his brow, “Hey, you ok?”

_“Yeah, I’m fine. Just hurry back, ok?”_

“Whatever,” Mickey said, and hung up the phone.

When he walked into the Alibi, Lip was already at the bar, talking to Kev.

Mickey made his way to the bar and by the time he sat down, Kev had a beer in front of him. He gave the bartender a short nod, before taking a sip. He looked to Lip, “No beer?”

“Nah, I don’t drink anymore. Alcoholism is a hell of a disease,” he said, as Kev set a coke in front of him.

Mickey nodded, “I think Cami mentioned something about that. Brad being your sponsor, or something like that?”

“Yeah, the professor I TA for at MIT is friends with him. He thought it would be good if I had a sponsor in Chicago since I had a slip up last summer.”

“And you’re ok with being in a bar?”

“I can control myself around alcohol. It’s not like I go crazy at the sight of it. Usually, I’m triggered by stress.”

Mickey took another sip of his drink, trying to listen to the radio, but it kept cutting out.

“Uh, no offense,” Lip said to Mickey, “but I thought this place had a tv.”

Mickey raised a brow, “Why the fuck would that offend me? I don’t run the place.”

“It broke at the beginning of summer,” Kev explained.

“Yeah, and now we’re stuck with this radio from like WWII. I don’t know why you won’t just take Ian’s offer to let him buy the bar a new tv,” Mickey said.

“It’s not me. V doesn’t want to take handouts from him. She says we don’t need a tv.”

“Look, I hate it when Ian buys stuff for me too, but this benefits him. We want a place to go where we don’t have to be around my family all the time.”

“Sorry, man, but V won’t budge.”

“Someone’s pussy whipped,” Mickey muttered into his drink, causing Lip to snicker.

“Whatever, man,” Kev said, but then raised an eyebrow, “Hey, what’s your sister doing here?”

Mickey glanced up to see Mandy storming into the Alibi, looking pissed. He rolled his eyes, “Probably wants to yell at me about something.”

Mickey braced himself for whatever tirade Mandy was going to unleash on him, but to his surprise she passed him and stood in front of Lip. Now, Mickey was really confused. He looked over to Lip, to see not confusion, but surprise. Lip was looking at Mandy like he knew her, which didn’t make any sense to Mickey, because he didn’t think he ever mentioned Lip to Mandy. He didn’t think they ever met either.

“Mandy?” Lip said in awe.

Before Lip could say another word, Mandy balled up her fist and punched Lip right in the face, knocking him of his barstool.

“Woah! The fuck are you doing Mandy?!” Mickey questioned, as everyone else at the bar watched with shocked interest.

Mandy ignored her brother, still glaring at Lip, “Fuck you, Lip Gallagher!” she growled, with tears in her eyes. And with that, she turned on her heel and left.

“What is it with you Milkoviches coming in here and just punching people? Jesus Christ! Kev exclaimed.

Mickey looked to Lip, who was already getting up.

“Mandy, wait!” he called out, running out the door after her.

Mickey got up and followed Lip and his sister outside. When he busted through the door, he could hear Lip pleading with his sister.

“Mandy, please let me explain!”

“Fuck off!”

“How did you even find me?!”

Mandy stopped and turned around. She looked tired, with mascara laced tears running down her cheek, “I’m best friends with your fucking brother, asshole.”

Lip looked at her in confusion.

“Ian!”

“Ian?”

“Yeah, he _is_ seeing my brother.”

“Your brother?” Lip turned around, noticing Mickey for the first time. He turned back to Mandy, and then stepped closer, reaching out to her, “Mandy-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” She sneered, reeling back.

Lip stopped, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, god,” Mandy laughed. She put her hand on her head, “I thought the last name was a coincidence. I knew you were from the Northside, but I thought you lived in Cambridge.”

“Only when I’m at school. I live in Forest Glen. Mandy, I didn’t even know you were still in Chicago. I thought you would be somewhere like New York by now. That was your plan.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Mandy spat bitterly, “It was a stupid fucking plan. Life got in the way. We can’t all be fucking rich and follow our dreams, like you.”

“I never saw it as a stupid plan,” Lip said, taking another step closer to her, “Mandy, please.”

“Please what, Lip?”

“Just hear me out.”

“Hear you out? You want me to fucking hear you out?!”

“Mandy, I-”

“You left me, Lip! You told me you loved me, and then left!”

“Whoa, hold up,” Lip said, his face twisting from concern to frustration, “I didn’t just up and leave you! Are you kidding me?! I did fucking love you Mandy! I wanted to take you with me, but you fucked it up for us!”

Mandy let out a surprised laugh, “I fucked it up? You broke up with me after you found out I was pregnant.”

“I broke up with you because you wouldn’t tell me whose it was.”

Mandy’s eyes went dark as she got into Lip’s face, “I told you my life was complicated. I told you there were just things I couldn’t tell you.”

“That isn’t fair! I knew that, Mandy, Christ! This was different! You cheated on me and got pregnant! And- and it wasn’t like I kicked you out of my life! I gave you options! Even when you said it wasn’t mine! Even when you said you cheated on me! I would have helped raise it! I would have helped you put it up for adoption, or paid for an abortion, but no! You didn’t want my help, so I left! What was I supposed to do?!”

“Don’t do that! Don’t try to make it sound like you gave me an infinite amount of choices!” she screamed back at him, “It was either tell you who it was, or you’d leave. You gave me a shitty ultimatum, like it was any of your fucking business that-”

“It was my fucking business! You cheated on me! I at least had a right to know who it was! I wasn’t going to do anything to the guy!”

“That isn’t what it was about!”

“Then tell me, Mandy! Tell me what this was fucking about!”

“Fuck you, Lip,” she whispered.

“Why are you protecting this guy? It doesn’t make any sense,” he stopped, looking as if something just dawned on him, “Do you even know who it was?”

Mandy shook her head slowly, staring at Lip as if he grew a second head, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just trying to figure it out. I’ve been trying to figure it out for two years.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, you asshole! Leave it alone!”

“No, Mandy, I want an answer! You owe me that at least!”

“I don’t owe you shit!”

“Just tell me and I’ll leave! You won’t have to see me again!”

“No!”

“Mandy!”

“Stop!”

“Just fucking tell me!”

“It was my dad’s!” she screamed, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

“What?” Lip said in an almost whisper, like he didn’t hear her correctly the first time, “Your dad?”

“He was drunk, and he thought I was my mom. I was alone, and I couldn’t get him off me. A month later I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t cheat on you, you prick. I just said that to hide the truth,” she sobbed, hugging herself tight, nails digging into her skin, “Are you happy now?”

Mickey had seen enough, immediately going into big brother mode. He had stood back to let Mandy fight this herself, because that was just how his sister was, but now he knew it was time to intervene. Mickey pushed Lip out of the way, “Move,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around Mandy.

Mandy fell to pieces in her brother’s arms, “I didn’t mean to say it, Mick. He made me say it.”

“I know, it’s ok. You’re ok, _we’re_ ok, ok? Terry’s in prison, Mandy. He can’t hurt you anymore,” Mickey soothed, rubbing the back of his sister’s head.

“I hate remembering so much, Mickey.”

“I know.”

Lip stepped closer, “Mandy, I’m so fucking sorry, I-”

“Back up,” Mickey said, his eyes cold.

“Mickey, I didn’t know,” he said, right before Mickey punched him in the nose. Lip fell backwards, hitting the ground hard, “Fuck,” he groaned.

Mickey crouched down to Lip’s level, “Just when I was starting to like you, Gallagher. Real shame, huh?” he said, before standing back up. He kicked Lip hard in the stomach, and then in the face.

Mandy did nothing but stand there with her arms wrapped around herself.

Mickey gave one more blow to Lip’s stomach, before backing up to admire his handy work. He looked up to see people from the bar had come out to watch, and Mickey yelled, “The fuck you idiots lookin’ at?! Go back inside!”

The bar patrons all murmured to each other, before shuffling back inside.

Lip had gone silent, and Mickey didn’t look back down to make sure he was ok. He walked over to Mandy, putting an arm around her, “C’mon, I’ll take you home. We’ll watch movies all night if you want.”

Mandy sniffled and nodded, letting Mickey guide her back to their house.


	11. We Pick Each Other Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this would have been out yesterday, but I had lost some progress when my computer updated while left to get dinner, and I didn't save, and I lost about 1500 words. Never had I felt so inclined to put my head through a wall lol, but anyway the chapter is here now! There are warnings for this chapter such as: mentions of past trauma and sexual abuse. As always thank you for the kudos and your kind comments, and thanks for reading!

Ian, for all intents and purposes, was a family guy. He like spending time with his siblings and his niece as much as time allowed. However, in recent weeks Ian had been so wrapped up with Mickey, he didn’t even realize he had missed out on so much family stuff, until he came home earlier that morning to find everyone gathered around the table for breakfast, and he wasn’t even up to date with the current family gossip. That was why he was staying in tonight. As much as he loved spending time with Mickey, he’d missed his family.

It was about eight o’clock when the Gallagher siblings joined each other on the spacious L shaped couch in the living room. Ian sat idly on the white cushions, reading a book, while Franny jumped from the end of the couch to the chair, going back and forth. He laughed when she crawled into his lap, poking at the book.

“Book?”

“Yeah, it’s a book,” he said, smiling at the curiosity of his niece.

“Read it to me?”

Ian cocked his head to the side a bit, “Maybe not this one. I don’t think you’d like it too much.”

Liam, who was sitting in a beanbag chair near the couch, looked up from his laptop and at Ian’s book, “A Brave New World? I’ve heard of that book. It any good?”

Ian shrugged, “It’s ok. I read it back in high school. It has a lot of good world building, and an interesting premise. A lot more racist than I remember it being though.”

“Most things usually are,” Liam pointed out, but then turned around when Fiona nudged him with her foot.

“Did you find what I was looking for?” She questioned, sitting with a notebook and a pen.

“Yeah. You can get your flowers here. It’s a shop about twenty minutes away. It’ll run you about fifty thousand dollars,” he said, letting Fiona see his screen.

She nodded, and then went back to furiously scribbling in her notebook.

“Jesus, for fucking flowers?” Carl muttered into his beer, not looking up from the magazine he was reading.

“Yeah, it takes a lot of money to make a wedding happen.”

“Yeah, when you’re trying to stick it to Frank, it is.”

Fiona shrugged, “It’s definitely an incentive, but it’s also my wedding day. Hopefully, Jimmy will be it, and I’ll only have to go through this once. Wedding planning is a lot harder than I thought.”

Ian glanced up from his book to study his sister. He noticed there were bags under her eyes, more so than usual. It worried him when his sister would get like this. She was so goal oriented, that she never realized when she was burning the candle at both ends.

Fiona was known to take on a lot of responsibility, and she thought she could do it all herself. On top of owning a diner and a laundry mat, Fiona had just bought an apartment building. Between working on renovations for that and planning the wedding, Fiona was basically running on fumes.

Ian had wanted to ask her to take a break, or maybe let someone else do the renovations or plan the wedding, but he knew what a bad idea it was to question Fiona on her ability to handle things. If anything, it would make her double down on her commitments, because that’s just how Fiona was. It was like she was always trying to prove something. So, Ian kept his mouth shut.

“Ok,” Debbie announced, as she walked down the stairs, “The tub’s all full. Time for your bath, Franny.”

Franny, who was now playing with one of her dolls in Ian’s lap, looked up at her mother with a frown, “No bath.”

Debbie groaned in exasperation. She made her way to where Franny was sitting on the couch, “Yes, bath. C’mon, it’s almost your bedtime.”

Franny pouted, “No bedtime.”

“Franny,” Debbie chided.

Franny shook her head, “No bath, mommy! No bedtime!” she curled in closer to Ian.

Ian petted Franny’s head, looking up at his sister with an amused, but apologetic look, “She’s tired.”

“Not tired!”

Debbie looked as if she were trying not to laugh. She cleared her throat, “Franny you can play with your dolls tomorrow. Right now, it’s bath time.”

Ian chuckled, when Franny shook her head and burrowed in closer to him, “Hey, Franny. If you go take your bath, I’ll read you a little bit from my book as a bedtime story.”

Franny looked up at him, “Ok,” she nodded, letting Debbie pick her up.

As Debbie hoisted Franny up on one hip, the door swung open, causing everyone to look towards the entrance hall.

When Lip entered the living room, limping and holding his stomach, he was met with mixed expressions of shock, and confusion.

“Oh my god, Lip,” Debbie gasped, and Franny buried her head into her mother’s neck.

Carl immediately jumped up to help Lip. He put his arm around his brother and walked him carefully into the living room. As he set Lip on the couch, Ian had already gotten up to grab his first aid kit. Everyone huddled around him, waiting for Lip to explain.

“I’m fine, really,” Lip groaned, as Ian walked back into the living room.

“You’re definitely not fine,” he said, hovering over his brother, examining his wounds.

“The hell happened, man? Did you get jumped?” Carl questioned.

Lip shook his head.

“Well, there’s no way you did this to yourself, Lip,” Fiona said.

“It was Mickey. He kicked my ass outside of the Alibi.”

Ian stopped short, “Mickey did this to you?”

Lip nodded solemnly.

Ian felt an unfamiliar jolt go through him. His brother looked like he’d just been in a car wreck. Ian didn’t understand why Mickey would do something like this, especially since he’d told him everything was fine between him and Lip. Ian couldn’t make sense of any of it, “What did you do?”

Carl turned on his brother, “Are you fucking serious, Ian? Look at Lip. Can you stop thinking about that guy for two seconds?”

Ian was taken aback. Carl never talked to Ian like that. Most times than not, he was always the one defending Ian. However, this time Lip stepped in to defend Mickey.

“It wasn’t Mickey’s fault. I had it coming.”

“Jesus, it must have been pretty bad. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck,” Debbie said.

Franny lifted her head and cautiously looked over at Lip. She frowned, “Uncle Lip’s hurt?”

Lip gave his niece a small smile, “I’m ok, kid. C’mere,” he said, wincing as he held out his arms for her.

Debbie leaned down to let Franny comfort her uncle.

Carl crossed his arms, “Why would Mickey do this to you?”

Lip stayed silent for a moment. He looked so sorrowful and regretful. He looked as if he were about to break down in front of everyone. He looked to Ian, “His sister.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Mandy? What about her?”

“I didn’t even know she was still here,” he said, ignoring Ian’s question, “She changed her hair. It looked nice.”

Ian felt something hard form in the pit of his stomach. There was something about this that was very wrong. How did Lip know Mandy? What did she have to do with Mickey beating up Lip? None of it was making any sense, and it was starting to piss Ian off. When did they even meet? Did Lip _do_ something to Mandy? It didn’t sound like Lip, but if he did, Ian had no qualms with putting Lip in his place. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt Mandy, even if that person was his own brother. “Lip, what did you do?”

Lip sighed, “Do you remember a couple summers ago, when I was dating that girl from the Southside?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, her name was Mandy.”

In that moment it instantly clicked for Ian. One year when Lip had come back home for summer break, he’d become infatuated with a girl he’d met. Though, he was very secretive about where he met the girl and really anything about her, not even telling them her name, he did mention she was from the Southside, and that he was in love with her. That was, of course, before he came home one day heartbroken, saying they were over. Then came the months of radio silence, until one night Ian received a call from Lip, saying he was checking into rehab for alcoholism. This had come as a complete surprise to Ian, but he knew that it had something to do with his breakup over the summer.

Carl scratched his head in confusion, “Wait, so that girl was-”

“Mickey’s sister,” Ian finished, “Fuck.”

“Didn’t you say she got pregnant with some other guy’s kid?” Debbie asked.

Lip tensed, “I was wrong. It doesn’t matter now anyway. I shouldn’t have left her like I did. I left without any explanation.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet,” Fiona scoffed, making Ian turn to her with a disapproving look.

However, before Ian could chastise her, Lip said, “Oh, fuck you, Fiona.”

That’s when the room went still.

Fiona blinked, “What?”

“I said fuck you. You don’t know her, Fiona.”

“I know she broke your heart.”

Lip sat up, “So, what if she did? It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Yeah, ok, play it off. It’s not like you were completely destroyed after that breakup.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lip said, getting up from the couch.

“Whatever,” Fiona muttered, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lip rolled his eyes as he passed her, “Just go back to planning your wedding, and playing business investor. Don’t worry about the people with _real_ problems.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you get kicked in the head so hard you forgot that you have money too?”

“At least I don’t spend it to get back at our shitty fucking father, who isn’t even here, or cares how much of his money you spend.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, as Lip slowly made his way up the stairs, “You just love feeling sorry for yourself, don’t you? You think you’re so much better than all of us.”

Lip didn’t say anything, reaching the top of the steps, and then disappearing.

“Asshole!” Fiona called out, before turning on her heel and going into the kitchen.

“Fiona, wait!” Liam called out, rushing after his sister.

Debbie sighed, and then picked her daughter back up, “C’mon, Franny. It’s bath time.”

“Aunt Fi’s mad,” she said, her voice muffled into her mother’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.”

Ian watched his sister go up the stairs, and then he turned to Carl, who was still standing by the couch with his arms crossed. Ian just gave him a knowing look.

Carl rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I know. Get ready for weeks of those two avoiding each other.”

“Can’t wait,” Ian muttered, before grabbing his first aid kit, and then walking back into the bathroom to put it up.

Ian then went upstairs and waited for Franny to get out of the tub, so he could deliver on his ‘story time’ promise. As he leaned against the upstairs bathroom wall, listening to Debbie go on about some girl she went on a date with, he let his mind wander back to Mandy and Lip. How did he not know? He tried wracking his brain for anything that could have given him a clue, and then it hit him. Sunday night, when he was helping her set the living room tv back up. When Lip called. _‘Fuck,’_ he thought angrily. He knew there was something off about her after Lip had called him.

“Are you even listening to me?” Debbie questioned, as she was drying Franny off.

“Hm?”

Debbie scowled at him, “Dick.”

Ian just sighed and left the bathroom. When Franny was finally in her pajamas, Debbie tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. After also saying goodnight to Debbie, Ian sat on the edge of the bed, ready to read Franny her story, when suddenly he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the screen, seeing that it was Mickey. Ian picked it up immediately, “Hello?”

_“Hey.”_

“Hey.”

There was a short pause before Mickey said, _“Your brother make it home ok?”_

“That supposed to be a joke?”

_“No.”_

Franny kicked off the blanket, and crawled over to Ian’s lap, “Who’s that?”

“No one, Franny. Just a friend.”

“Hello!” Franny yelled at the phone.

_“You busy? I can call back later if you are.”_

“Nah, I’m just trying to get my niece to go to sleep.”

_“Babysitting, huh? How old is she?”_

“Three.”

_“I remember when Yev was that age. That’s when they’re cute. Then once they reach the ability to talk back to you, it gets hard to not punt them through a window.”_

Ian laughed, “Yeah, she’s a handful.”

_“But seriously. How’s your brother?”_

“Wouldn’t you know since you kicked the shit out of him?”

Mickey sighed, _“I didn’t mean to go that hard on him. I was pissed.”_

“Yeah, I could tell.”

_“Did he tell you what he did?”_

“He didn’t tell me exactly what he did tonight, but I knew about the Southside girl he’d been dating a couple summers ago. I had no idea it was Mandy. When they were dating, Lip wouldn’t even tell me her name.”

_“Yeah, same here.”_

“What’d he do tonight that was so bad?”

_“Well, you know why they broke up, right?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Mandy found out Lip worked with me, and then came into the Alibi and punched him. Lip followed her outside and they both just started screaming at each other. Then Lip just kept pushing her about who the father was, and she had a break down.”_

Ian felt a tightness in his chest, “Really?”

_“Look, I get it. He loved her, and he thought she cheated on him, but fucking Christ. Ian, what happened with her and that baby was none of his fucking business. He broke my sister’s heart two years ago, and then made her relive all that shit tonight. So, yeah, I kicked his ass. You wanna be mad at me about it, go right ahead. I’d do it again.”_

Ian sighed, “I’m not mad at you, Mickey. Fuck, if it were Fiona or Debbie, I’d probably do the same thing too. Is she ok?”

_“Yeah, I got her calmed down. She’s sleeping now.”_

“That’s good,” Ian said, and felt a tug on his shirt.

Franny looked up at him with big eyes, “Story time now?”

“Look, I gotta go. I let this kid stay up another minute, her mom’s going to come in here and kick my ass.”

_“Yeah, I get it. I’m staying home tomorrow, so I can be here with Mandy. At least, until someone else gets home to watch her. You wanna come over?”_

Ian probably shouldn’t, because of what went down with Lip, but by the sound of Mickey’s voice, Ian could tell he was tired and worried. He was probably worried about how this was going to affect their relationship. Ian wanted to be there to reassure him, “Yeah. I’ll be over around two maybe.”

_“Ok, bye, Ian.”_

“Bye, Mickey,” he said, before ending the call. He already missed Mickey’s voice.

Ian looked to his niece, who was rolling around on her bed. She looked like she’d just downed a bottle of Mt. Dew. He laughed a little and tucked her back in. Ian picked up his book, “You ready for a story?”

Franny nodded, while Ian opened the book up to a random page.

He didn’t really think a novel about a dystopian society, where science had advanced so far to where humans were grown in labs, and the totalitarian government implements a caste system to keep them all in line, was suitable for a three year old. So, Ian just made up a story, and pretended he was reading it from the book, because Franny didn’t know the difference.

When Franny was finally asleep, Ian walked down the hall to Lip’s room. He stood outside the room for a moment before he knocked on the door and waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he checked the door handle, surprised to see that it was unlocked. As he opened the door, he said, “Lip?”

No answer.

Ian poked his head in to see Lip laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, not moving a muscle. Ian sighed, and walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. He made his way over to Lip, who still refused to acknowledge Ian was even there. Ian leaned his back up against the wall, not saying a word. It stayed silent for a few minutes, before Ian said, “I talked to Mickey.”

Lip didn’t budge.

“He said that Mandy calmed down after they got back home. She’s sleeping now.”

Nothing. Lip was giving Ian nothing. No emotion, not even an indication that he understands what Ian was saying to him.

“Lip, please say something. You’re scaring me,” Ian pleaded, but still was met with no response. He looked down at the floor, feeling hopeless, when he heard Lip speak. His voice was raspy.

“Are you and Mickey going to be ok?”

Ian’s head snapped back up, “What?”

Lip turned his head to Ian, looking apprehensive, “He’s not mad at you, because of me, is he? I didn’t fuck up what you guys had?”

That was honestly the last thing Ian expected, Lip worrying that he ruined his and Mickey’s relationship. Ian had to think a moment, before he said, “No, we’re ok.”

“That’s good. At least I didn’t fuck _that_ up.”

The way Lip was acting wasn’t completely unfamiliar to Ian. He remembered a time back when they were children, when Frank and Monica would get in fights over Lip and his intelligence. Afterwards, Frank would tell Lip that it was his fault. He was the reason they were fighting. That they wouldn’t even be fighting if they decided not to have kids. When they were younger, this upset the Gallagher children, who all received the same type of beratement from Frank. Now, it was more like background noise than anything. So, it surprised Ian that Lip was resorting back to that mindset now. Did he really think it was his fault if he and Mickey were to get in a fight over this?

“Did he tell you what happened?” Lip said, bringing Ian out of his thoughts.

“In so little words. He said you two were in a screaming match outside the Alibi. Said you basically forced Mandy to tell you who got her pregnant. That true?”

Lip nodded wordlessly.

“Christ, Lip.”

“I was upset. It was like seeing her again brought it all back. It opened a wound, and I couldn’t close it back up, not when I had her back here. It was like I couldn’t let her go again. Not until I got some answers.”

“Well, I hope you were fucking satisfied with your answers.”

Lip’s jaw tensed, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He looked like he was about ready to lose it.

Ian’s eyes widened at his brother’s distraught state. He straightened up then, pushing himself off the wall, “Lip?”

“It was her dad.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “What was her dad?”

“That got her pregnant. It was her dad.”

A chill ran up Ian’s spine, so sudden and so violently, he recoiled back. It was like Lip’s words themselves were freezing to the touch. Ian’s mind was going a thousand miles a minute, trying to piece together everything and anything Mandy had said to him that could have revealed this sooner. Then it hit him, the nightmares.

Mandy’s nightmares were something Ian tried not to think about, but it made sense. Both Mandy and Mickey got them. Except Mickey couldn’t remember his, because of his father nearly beating him to death. Then Ian remembered something Mickey said about the night he fought his dad, _‘My pops did something bad, real bad, and I couldn’t handle the guilt it put on my shoulders,’_ and then another memory of something Mandy had once told him, popped in his head, _‘He blames himself for my nightmares, but it isn’t his fault. What happened to me, he couldn’t have stopped it. It had been going on long before he even knew.’_

Ian warily sat himself down on the edge of Lip’s bed, feeling as if he were going to vomit. “It all makes sense now,” he muttered.

Lip maneuvered himself, so he was now sitting next to Ian, “What does?”

“Everything. Mandy’s nightmares. The reason Mickey fought his dad. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ian said, burying his head in his hands.

“Wait, so when Mickey found out-”

“He got into a fight with his dad. He got his skull cracked open, and-”

“That must have been when he suffered his brain injury,” Lip said, surprising Ian that he knew that, “Mickey told me his dad fucked him up for being gay. I guess that wasn’t the only reason.”

“Yeah,” Ian said, looking up at his brother. He wondered to himself how on earth they both got so intwined with the Milkovich family, “Y’know Mickey doesn’t hate you, right? I don’t think he’s even mad at you anymore. He was scared. You hurt his sister, and that made him angry, but I think he was scared of us finding out.”

Lip shook his head, “If I knew, I wouldn’t have pushed her. If she would have just told me she was raped, I would have still been there for her, but I wouldn’t have asked questions.”

“Lip, she didn’t owe you that kind of information. What happened to her was none of your business, and she didn’t owe you an explanation.”

“I know.”

“Do you still love her?”

Lip cocked his head to the side, studying his brother, before saying, “Like am I still _in_ love with her?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” he paused before saying, “I’ll always still care about her though. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Ok.”

“So, what’s next?”

Ian sighed, “Well, I’m hanging out with Mickey tomorrow. Can’t say what’s going to happen with me and Mandy. I don’t even know if she wants to see me now. Me being your brother and everything.”

Lip winced, “Sorry. I might have fucked up your friendship with her.”

“We’ve only been friends for a few months, but it feels like I’ve known her forever.”

“Yeah,” Lip said with a small smile, “she has that effect on people.”

Ian smiled too and nodded. He looked around the room, and then said, “You going to sleep now?”

“Maybe,” he said, but then an expression crossed over his face, like he had just thought of something, “Hey, if I ask you something, do you promise not to laugh?”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Sure?”

“Would you wanna stay in here with me tonight?”

“Would I be sleeping on the floor?”

“I mean we both can. We could make a fort. Like when we were kids and Frank and Monica would be fighting, remember?”

“Lip, we’re in our twenties.”

“Right. Sorry, man, that was a stupid question to a-”

“No, I mean it’s a great idea. We’ll just have to make it bigger. Y’know since we’re not little anymore.”

Lip laughed, “I think I can figure it out.”

They both got up then, busying themselves with making the fort. Ian pushed one of Lip’s dressers over, so it was adjacent from his bed. Ian then gathered a bunch of blankets from the closet, and secured one end to the bed posts, and the other to the dresser, throwing more blankets on top to cover everything, while Lip put down pillows and comforters on the inside. By the end, it looked like a glorious mess that could come crashing down any minute, but that was how they always looked when they were kids.

Ian shut the light off and crawled into the fort with Lip. It was a tight squeeze, but when they finally situated themselves, Ian felt a wave of nostalgia hit him. He turned his phone’s flashlight on and pointed it up at the ceiling, “I think this would have been better with chairs.”

Lip rolled his eyes, “There aren’t any chairs up here. Unless, you wanted to go downstairs to get the dining chairs.”

“You gonna be ok sleeping on the floor? Y’know, with your injuries and everything?”

“I’ll be fine."

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Hey, remember when we’d build forts and stay up for hours in them reading comics?”

Ian smiled, “Yeah.”

“It was like our own special world. Where nothing could hurt us. No parents, no school bullies, nothing.”

Ian turned to face Lip, “You sure you’re gonna be ok?” he asked, though this time the concern wasn’t for Lip’s injuries.

“I think so. Just need some time to think.”

“Ok,” Ian said, and then yawned. He must have been sleepier than he thought.

“Night, Ian.”

Ian yawned again, turning his flashlight off, and then pulling the comforter over him, “Goodnight, Lip.”

When Ian woke up it was still dark. He looked over at Lip, who was snoring softly next to him. He picked his phone up to check the time and saw that is was 3:57 am.

Slowly, Ian crawled out of the fort, careful to not wake up Lip. He walked out into the hallway and was suddenly met with the sound of piano music. Following the sound, Ian crept down the stairs and into the living room. There he saw Fiona at the grand piano, playing a song.

Ian stood there for a minute and just listened. As he listened to more of the song, he recognized its tune. It was 'Think of Me' from Phantom of the Opera. Ian smiled as he remembered when they were younger, and Fiona would spend days at the piano, practicing. Ian would always sit with her while she played, and sometimes if she weren’t too busy, she’d teach him a few notes. She had played this song at one of her beauty pageants and won first place.

Ian walked up behind her, watching her fingers fly over the keys, "Hey."

Fiona startled before looking back, "Hey."

"Didn't know you started playing again."

Fiona shrugged, "I usually do it to blow off steam."

"You're still amazing at it," he said, sitting next to her on the bench.

Fiona smiled, "Thanks. What are you doing up so early?"

"Woke up and didn’t want to go back to sleep. The floor was really fucking up my back."

"Why were you asleep on the floor?"

"Me and Lip decided to make a blanket fort, and we fell asleep in it."

"You know you guys are like adults, right?"

Ian rolled his eyes affectionately, tapping his finger on one of the keys, "So, what's got you so stressed out, that you’re playing piano at four in the morning?"

"The wedding. I didn't think it was going to be this hard, but I'm also taking on a new apartment building I bought, and it's a literal shit hole. I've had to kick tenants out for not paying rent, and it's been a shit week. Plus, having to run the laundromat and Patsy’s. Jimmy wants me to call a planner, because he's worried about me, but I can fucking do it. It's my wedding. I should be the one to plan it. God knows he can't do anything. Remember when he tried to help with Franny's birthday party?"

"In his defense, when you asked him to get a pony, you didn't specify that it had to be a young pony."

"Ian, it died in the middle of one of the kids riding it.”

"And now that kid has a fun story to tell."

Fiona scoffed, rubbing her hands over her face.

"That's not the only thing on your mind, is it? The wedding?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"Maybe what Lip said got to you."

"Lip just tries to drag everyone down to be as miserable as he is."

"So, I'm gonna take that as a yes."

Fiona huffed and crossed her arms.

"It was a shitty thing to say. You don't even know her."

Fiona looked to him and sighed, "I know."

"It kinda sounded like something Frank would say."

"Is this your idea of trying to make me feel better?" Fiona questioned with a glare. 

“No, it’s me telling you that being a stuck-up bitchy person doesn’t suite you. You’re better than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” she said, her voice going soft.

“I know, but you really struck a chord with Lip.”

“What doesn’t set him off?” she muttered, but then said, “I’m sorry about what I said though. I’m sure your friend is really nice.”

“Oh, she’s not, but that’s why I like her,” Ian smirked, “She’s pretty amazing.”

“That’s a high praise.”

“She’s my best friend,” he laughed a little, “I’ve only known her for a couple of months, but she’s my best friend.”

Fiona smiled, “And what about her brother?”

“You know about Mickey. I talk about him all the time.”

“That you do, but I mean what’s going on with him? How serious is this guy to you?”

“I’d like to say we’re getting pretty serious.”

“Is he going to be your date for the wedding?”

Ian didn’t even think about that. Fiona’s wedding was in late August, so probably. He’d have to ask Mickey first. Ian wasn’t even sure how Mickey felt about weddings or attending weddings. Ian made a note to himself to ask about that later.

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

“Y’know, you’ve been with this guy for like what, a month? When are you going to introduce us?”

“Soon. Mickey isn’t the most sociable person.”

“Well, it better be soon. I wanna meet the guy that’s making you so happy. I mean after ‘you know who’, I didn’t think you’d be dating anyone anytime soon, but you surprised me. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

Ian smiled at that. The truth was, he was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Mickey made him feel indescribable. The way he talked, the way he carried himself, Mickey always had this aura of confidence that drew Ian toward him like a moth to a flame. There was something raw and real about Mickey, that Ian found comfort in. Maybe it was because Mickey was comfortable enough with Ian to let him in. Either way, it made Ian feel good.

He looked to Fiona, “Actually, I was going to hang out with him later today. We usually hang out at this place called The Alibi Room. Do you know it?”

Fiona nodded, “I’ve passed it a few times.”

“I know you’re gonna be on the Southside tomorrow. Maybe we could meet up there, and you could finally meet Mickey.”

Fiona grinned, “Yeah, ok. That would be really nice, Ian,” she turned back to the piano and started playing again.

Ian watched her; a smile still plastered to his face. He then closed his eyes and let himself get carried away with the music.

When the sun rose, and the family started making their way downstairs for breakfast, Ian was surprised to see Lip in his work shirt.

“You’re going to work?”

Lip looked up at him, “Yeah?”

Ian wanted to say something about it, but he decided to drop it. Maybe it was a good thing that Lip didn’t take off. Work would be a good distraction for him, and he’d be around his sponsor. Hopefully, Lip would take the initiative to tell his boss what was going on.

Ian sat and watched silently as Lip ate his breakfast, and then leave. He sighed, putting his head into his hands. He really hoped Lip would be ok.

Later that day, around two, Ian drove to Mickey’s house. He was nervous about what Mickey was going to say. He wondered if Mandy was going to be there waiting for him too. Hopefully, she was, and not just to tell him to fuck off. He wanted to keep their friendship. It was something he really valued.

When he got to the house, he saw Mickey out on the front step, smoking a cigarette. When he got out, Ian gave Mickey a small wave, “Hey,” he said, sitting next to Mickey on the steps.

“Hey,” Mickey said, passing the cigarette to Ian.

“How’s Mandy?”

Mickey didn’t look at Ian when he said, “Asleep. She had another nightmare last night. A little after I got off the phone with you.”

Ian looked to him, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He didn’t know what to say. He felt like it was his fault that this happened. If he never started hanging out with Mandy, Lip would have never come back into her life. Also, what about Mickey? He knew Mickey said it was fine between them, but still those were just words. If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t know what was going to happen next. The whole situation was fucked.

Mickey stared back at him for a moment before plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and kissing him. He pulled back and smirked, “Get out of that big head of yours. We’re fine, Ian. Mandy’s going to be ok.”

“She say anything about me?”

Mickey raised a brow, “No, why?”

“I just wanna know if we’re still friends.”

Mickey sighed, “I don’t know, man. I think that’s up to her.”

“You’re right,” he said, and then added, “Lip told me who the father was.”

“Figured he would,” Mickey said, taking one more hit from his cigarette, before throwing it on the ground and crushing it with his boot.

“Mickey, I’m so sorry.”

“Why? You weren’t the one that hurt her.”

“I know, it’s just… I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s fine. The fucker’s in prison now. He can rot there.”

“He in there for life?”

“Unfortunately, no, but I’m hoping he’ll get stabbed before he’s up for parole.”

“So, there’s a chance he could come back?”

“Doubt it. If he does, it’ll be years from now.”

Ian nodded, “That’s good.”

Mickey stood up then, and he motioned to the door, “Wanna fuck before we head over to the Alibi?”

Ian shook his head disapprovingly, “Your sister is sleeping in there, Mickey.”

“Exactly. This way, we won’t be bothering her, cus’ she can’t hear us.”

Ian sighed and stood up next to Mickey, “How about I pull my car into the alley across the street, and we can fuck in there?”

Mickey grinned at him, before walking over to Ian’s car, “Sounds like a plan.”

A few hours later, after a round of promiscuous car sex and a shower. Ian and Mickey waited for Sandy to come home from work, before walking over to the Alibi, that way someone would be home for Mandy if she needed anything. As they approached the bar, Ian had gotten a text from Fiona, saying she had just finished up at her new apartment building and was on her way over to the Alibi.

Ian looked to Mickey, “Hey, so, I forgot to mention this, but I invited my sister to have drinks with us.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “The older one, or the younger one?”

“The older one.”

“Ok?”

“I just wanted to let you know, so you don’t make a bad impression,” Ian said straight faced, but was clearly joking.

Mickey scoffed, “Can’t be that hard. I’ve already made great first impressions with your brothers.”

“Pretty sure one of them thought you were an asshole when they first met you, and the other one also thought you were an asshole when they first met you, so yeah, I’m sure she’ll love you.”

“Get your ass in there before I kick it,” Mickey laughed.

When Ian and Mickey sat themselves at the bar, Kev set one drink in front of Mickey, but then hesitantly set Ian’s in front of him, “You didn’t eat his ass today, did you?”

Ian rolled his eyes, and grabbed the glass, “Shut the fuck up, and give me my drink.”

There was a collective sound of ‘oohs’ while Kev just laugh, “Woah there, Northside. I was just playing around. I think Milkovich here has rubbed off on you.”

“Yeah, in more ways than one,” Ian mumbled into his drink. He looked over to Mickey and watched his face heat up. There was something increasingly fun about embarrassing Mickey.

“Hey,” Kev said in a more serious tone, “So, is your brother ok? I know he left here pretty banged up.”

Ian nodded, “Yeah, he’s ok. He’s still sore, but he seemed fine before he left for work.” He looked to Mickey, who was now staring down at his drink. If Ian didn’t know any better, he’d say Mickey looked guilty. Ian was about to say something about it when the front door opened. Ian looked up to see Fiona in a flowery sundress and sunglasses, talking fervently on the phone.

“Well, when will they be able to come and put the new wallpaper up?” she asked, walking over to the bar, “Can’t you move it up sooner? I have an open house in two weeks,” she sat down next to Ian, looking annoyed, “Well, you just find the fucking time to get it done… because that’s what I’m paying you to do.”

Ian just rolled his eyes and smiled at his sister.

“Whatever, I gotta go. I’m going into an important meeting right now. Ok, bye,” she said and hung up the phone.

Ian looked to his sister expectantly, “An important meeting? Who with?”

Fiona grinned, “My favorite brother, and also a bottle of schnapps.”

“I thought Liam was your favorite brother.”

“You’re all my favorite brothers,” she said, but then added, “Except for Lip. He’s on my shit list right now.”

“Fi,” Ian sighed.

“I know, I know, positive vibes,” she looked around the bar, smiling, “So are these your friends?”

“Fiona, don’t embarrass me,” Ian grumbled.

“Aww, Sweetface, I’m not going to embarrass you,” she said, pinching Ian’s cheek.

“Fiona,” Ian hissed, as a blush crept up on his cheeks.

Before Fiona could say anything else, Kev came up to take her order.

“What can I get for you?”

“You got schnapps?”

“Yeah, we got peach. We make a killer Sex on the Beach. Want one?”

Fiona shook her head, “I’ll just take the bottle, thanks,” she then pulled out a fifty from her wallet, “Will this cover it?”

Kev’s eyes went wide, “Uh, yeah, that’ll work,” he looked to Ian, “Want me to get you another beer, Sweetface?”

Ian groaned in frustration and Mickey laughed. He glared at his lover, who kept laughing even when Kev walked away to get Fiona’s drink, “Oh, you think it’s funny?”

“Yeah, I do. Who knew you could get so red, Red?”

“I bet you’re Mickey,” Fiona said, leaning forward to look at him.

“Yup.”

Fiona crossed her arms and stared at the dark-haired boy, sizing him up.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at her and seemed to be sizing her up too.

Ian glanced between them, hoping he wouldn’t have to add Fiona to the list of people who disapproved of his and Mickey’s relationship. Instead, his sister surprised him when she put her hand out to shake his.

“I’m Fiona.”

He shook Fiona’s hand, “Ian’s told me a lot about you.”

“Likewise.”

“Oh, he talks about me?” Mickey questioned, and then gave Ian a sly smile.

“Are you kidding? Can’t get him to shut up about you. It’s like he thinks the sun shines out of your ass.”

“Ok,” Ian interrupted his sister, “Fiona, look, your drink is here.”

Kev handed her the bottle, “How many glasses do you need?”

“None, I’m good here,” she said, screwing the cap off and drinking straight from the bottle.

Ian, Kev, and Mickey all shared a look when V came out from the back room.

“Hey, boys,” she said, stepping behind the bar. She looked to Fiona, “Who’s this?”

Fiona gave V a bright smile, “Hi, I’m Fiona.”

“She’s my sister,” Ian said.

“Oh,” V said, smiling back at Fiona, “Older or younger?”

“Older. Been raising this guy since he fell out of mom in the back of a medical tent at a music festival,” Fiona teased, ruffling Ian’s hair.

Mickey raised his brow, “You were born in the back of a tent?”

Ian shrugged, “My mom brought me into this world, the same way she conceived me. In some tent at a festival, high on PCP.”

“Monica was never good at timing, when it came to being in labor.”

“Yep, you, Lip, and Debs were all born on the kitchen table, Carl was born in the back of a limo, and Liam was actually born at the hospital, but Monica and Frank were already there for something unrelated.”

“Jesus, Gallagher,” Mickey muttered, taking a swig of his beer, “Lose the Jeep and the amex, and you could be Southside.”

Ian smirked, “Guess us Northsider’s are more interesting than you first thought.”

Mickey shrugged, as if what Ian said was true, “Guess so.”

“So, is this your bar? Like, do you own it?” Fiona questioned, as V handed a customer a drink.

“Yeah. My husband and I bought it about five years ago. Good thing too. I think we might end up being the only authentic place left around here. Business owners on the Southside are getting fucked every which way, having to sell, because these rich assholes are coming in and buying everyone out. Turning failed or rundown businesses into coffee shops and yoga studios. It’s bullshit.”

“Would it make you feel better if one of those rich assholes agrees with you?”

V gave Fiona a look, and then crossed her arms, “Depends.”

“I don’t like what a lot of the people on my side are doing to small business owners. I don’t like that they’re changing everything. The Southside of Chicago has a rich culture that I don’t want to mess with.”

“But you own places down here?”

Fiona smiled sheepishly, “I like investing in places to renovate them, not tear them down. I own a diner not far from here called Patsy’s, and across the street I own a laundromat. I also just bought an apartment building close to the youth shelter.”

V gave her a surprised look, “You own Patsy’s?”

“Yeah.”

“And the laundromat? Wait, you talkin’ about Wendell’s? I thought Etta still ran that place. I saw her sitting out on her stool last Sunday when I walked past the window.”

“Well, technically I own it, but I let Etta stay in her apartment. I kept the name the same, and I still let her sit out on her stool. I got other employees working there, and I hired a nurse to make sure she takes her medicine. She doesn’t have any family left, and I didn’t want to kick her out of the only home she’d ever known.”

V stared Fiona down for a moment, and then smiled, “That’s really respectable, Fiona.”

Fiona smirked and lifted her schnapps in a toast, before taking another swig, “Yep, that’s me. Respectable and reliable Fiona.”

As the hours went by, Ian, Fiona, Mickey just stayed at the bar and talked. He was surprised to see how well it was going, because both Mickey and Fiona could be very standoffish, when it came to meeting new people. A lot of times with Fiona, she didn’t make good first impressions, and he noticed it with Mickey too. He also noticed that Fiona and V were taking a liking to each other, which made Ian happy. His sister didn’t have a lot of friends, so it was nice seeing her and V being so friendly with each other.

Unfortunately, as more time went on, Ian had begun to see the shift in his sister’s mood. She was getting chatty, and her words were slurring. By nine, he could tell Fiona was wasted. She could barely keep her head up.

Eventually, he made his way over to the end of the bar, where Kev and V were watching her with worried looks, “Hey.”

Kev raised his brow, “Is she alright?”

Ian sighed, “She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“She gets like this sometimes. It’s best just to let her do her thing, and then she’ll go home and regret ever drinking."

“I don’t know,” V said, “Maybe you should call someone to take her home. She looks like she’s about to fall right out of her chair.”

“She’ll be fine.”

As if on cue, Fiona, who was very animatedly talking to Mickey, swung her hand back, accidentally knocking the old radio on to the floor.

Ian winced, looking over at Kev, who’s mouth was agape.

“My radio!”

V gave Ian a pointed look.

“I’ll call her fiancé to come pick her up,” he said, pulling out his phone to call Jimmy. Ian dialed Jimmy’s number, and then quickly explained the situation. He looked over to Fiona, who was giggling very loudly at something Mickey had said, “Maybe leave as soon as you can. I don’t know how long it will be until she passes out,” Ian said, before hanging up the phone. He looked to Kev and V, “He’s on his way.”

V looked over at Fiona, “Want me to tell her that he’s coming?”

“No, she’ll get all defensive, and say she doesn’t need to go home. If you could though, don’t serve her anymore alcohol. I don’t want her drinking anymore tonight,” he said, and V nodded in agreement.

For the next few minutes Ian helped Kev clean up the radio, and then he walked over to Fiona, who had just taken another drink.

“I think that’s enough for now.”

Fiona looked at him confused, “What?”

“You’re drunk, Fiona.”

Fiona attempted to sputter out a response, “Yeah, maybe I’m a little tipsy. So what?”

“Maybe just put a stop on the drinking until you sober up. Here, I’ll take the bottle, and you can have it back tomorrow.”

Fiona looked taken aback, “But, I bought this with my own money.”

“You need to sober up before you drink anymore.”

Fiona’s shocked expression soon twisted into one of anger, “You’re the one who invited me out to a bar. Now you’re telling me not to drink?”

“Fiona, please don’t make a scene.”

Fiona scoffed, “Don’t make a scene? Y’know what? Fuck you, Ian. You’re just like Lip. You only want to judge me. Why don’t you tell me how selfish I am? Or how I’m bitter, and spiteful, and egotistical? Go ahead!”

Ian felt a deep sadness for his sister. He could tell she was hurting, “Fiona.”

Fiona’s rage soon dissolved when she saw the miserable look on her brother’s face, “Oh, Ian, I made you sad. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

She looked to Mickey, “Mickey, I made Ian sad.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“No, you don’t understand. We can’t make Ian sad anymore,” she said, causing Ian to laugh nervously.

“I’m ok, Fiona, really,” he said, not knowing how to convey to his drunk sister that he hadn’t told Mickey of his bipolar disorder yet.

“What’s she talkin’ about?”

“Nothing, she’s drunk,” Ian said dismissively. He could see that Mickey wasn’t completely convinced. Before he could come up with something else, the door opened, and Jimmy walked in. Ian had never been so happy to see his future brother in law, “Over here.”

Fiona turned around and gasped when she saw Jimmy. She then turned back around to face Ian, “You little traitor!”

“Fiona,” Jimmy said, as he approached them.

“Go away, Jimmy.”

“Fiona, please let me take you home.”

“No, I don’t want to go home if Lip is there.”

“He isn’t. I haven’t seen him since he left for work.”

Ian looked to Jimmy, “Wait what? Lip got off almost four hours ago. He didn’t come home?”

“No, I just assumed he was trying to avoid your sister,” he focused on Fiona, “C’mon, Fi. Lip isn’t there. We can go home and talk about what’s bugging you if you want.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, “Then we can go home and eat pizza and binge watch The Bachelor, and not talk about it.”

Fiona pondered this for a moment, and then nodded, “Ok.”

Jimmy let out a sigh of relief, “Ok, good.”

Ian hugged Fiona goodbye, and then watched as she said goodbye to the others, before walking out of the Alibi.

Jimmy turned to Kev and V, “She didn’t destroy, or break anything, did she?”

Kev raise his brow, “As a matter of fact she did. She broke my radio.”

V rolled her eyes, “Oh, Kev, please. That was an accident.”

“It was an antique, and very important to the bar’s history. Obviously, you can’t put a price on sentimental value, but compensation could help ease the pain,” Kev said, not sounding the least bit convincing.

Jimmy nodded, and pulled out his wallet, “How does twenty bucks sound?”

Kev brightened, and then snatched the money out of Jimmy’s hand, “That’ll work.”

“So, Lip never came home?” Ian questioned, and Jimmy turned to him.

“No, man, sorry. Should we be worried?”

“I don’t know yet. Text me if you hear from him, alright?”

“Yeah, ok. See ya, Ian.”

“Bye, Jimmy.”

After Jimmy left, Ian paid for their drinks and he and Mickey walked out of the Alibi, deciding that it was time to go back home.

It was silent as they walked home. Ian had a lot on his mind. From worrying about Lip to worrying about his Fiona, Ian was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he completely missed what Mickey had just said to him. “Hm?”

“I said are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Mickey stopped them and turned to face Ian. He kissed him softly on the lips, “Ok. Just making sure.”

Ian felt himself relax, “Should we be standing out here kissing? Someone could beat us up.” Ian teased, referencing what Mickey had said to him on Sunday.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “It’s almost ten on a Wednesday night. I think we’ll be alright.”

“What about that guy, Eddie Zago? Isn’t he still looking for you?”

“Nah, I don’t think he’s going to be a problem anymore.”

Ian’s eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

“Heard he got into a really bad wreck a couple nights ago. Someone cut his break lines,” Mickey shrugged nonchalantly.

Ian didn’t have to be rocket scientist to know Mickey, or his brothers probably had something to do with that. However, Ian pushed the thought out of his mind, “I bet you’re real broken up about that.”

“Never good when an old friend gets hurt. I sent him flowers.”

Ian grinned at that. Sometimes Mickey could be such a bastard, “It’s so sweet you’re concerned about him,” he said, pulling Mickey in for a kiss.

“And people still don’t believe I’m a nice guy,” Mickey murmured and smiled against Ian’s lips.

Ian then pulled back and slipped his arm around Mickey’s waist. They continued walking, and Mickey pulled out a cigarette to smoke. As they walked, Ian kept checking his phone, hoping Lip or Jimmy would text him. 

It must have been pissing Mickey off, because he eventually said, “Jesus, what are you waiting for, a call from your boyfriend?”

“No, I’m checking to see if Lip texted me, or Jimmy texting me about Lip.”

“You’re really worried about your brother, huh?”

Ian looked down at Mickey, who was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Ian sighed, “Yeah. He went to work this morning, and I don’t know if that was the best thing for him to do. Now, it’s almost ten, and I can’t get ahold of him… I was also seeing if Mandy texted me. I’m worried about her, and I’m worried about Lip too.”

Mickey nodded, and he got that guilty look on him again.

“Sorry. I know I sound overprotective, but I just care about them a lot. Lip’s my brother, y’know? We’re closer than anything. Also, Mandy’s my best friend. I just want them to be ok.”

Mickey didn’t say anything but kept the same look on his face.

Ian could tell something was wrong, “Hey, you ok?”

Mickey threw his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out, “Just thinkin’.”

“About what?”

“That none of this would have happened if I just kept a better eye on her.”

Ian stopped to stare Mickey in the eye, “That isn’t true. That isn’t true, Mickey, and you know it.”

“Y’know when she first told me, she said that it wasn’t the first time it’s happened to her. She said the first time was a few months after our mom died. She was thirteen, Ian,” Mickey said, his voice cracking, “And I didn’t do shit.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known.”

Ian shook his head, stepping forward to take Mickey’s face into his hands, “Mickey, she doesn’t blame you.”

“How do you know that?” Mickey questioned in a whisper.

“Because she told me. The night we first hung out, when I came by to see you, but ended up hanging out with her the entire day. After you came home and stormed off to your room, she said it pissed her off that you felt guilty, because it wasn’t your fault. Blaming yourself doesn’t help anyone. If anything, it takes blame off the one person who’s responsible, your father. Please, Mickey, don’t let the guilt destroy you. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

Tears welled in Mickey’s eyes, but they refused to fall, “I couldn’t protect her.”

“You’re protecting her now. You can’t change the past, Mickey,” he said, resting his forehead on Mickey’s.

“You sound like Sandy.”

“Maybe you should listen to your cousin more.”

“Thank you,” Mickey said, kissing Ian sweetly on the mouth.

It was so hard for Ian to hold back the words ‘I love you’, because that was how Ian felt, and he felt it with his whole being. He loved Mickey. He loved Mickey Milkovich. Though he knew how dangerous it would be to say those words now, during everything going on. Not to mention the fact that Ian was positive Mickey wasn’t ready to hear it. So, in the meantime, Ian would just have to keep his love for Mickey close to his heart, where it belonged. One day he’d get to say it, when he was sure that Mickey would say it back.

Ian grinned against Mickey’s lips, “You’re welcome. C’mon, let’s get to your place.”

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, pulling away, slipping his arm around Ian’s waist, as they walked back to Mickey’s house.

When they walked in the front door, Ian wasn’t expecting Mandy to be exiting her room at the same time.

They both stared at each other, neither of them seeming to know what to do. The longing look in their eyes, and the apologies that wouldn’t pass their lips seemed to have lost themselves in translation. However, it was Mandy who broke the silence first, running up to Ian and wrapping him in a hug.

Ian hugged her back as he felt Mandy bury her face in his shoulder and start to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Ian. I’m so sorry.”

“Mandy, Mandy,” he soothed, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mickey rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m gonna let you two talk. I’ll be in my room,” he said, and then walked into his room and shut the door.

Ian held Mandy a little longer, before guiding her over to the couch. They both sat down, and Ian put his arm around Mandy as she laid her head on his chest.

“So, do you know?” she questioned.

Ian didn’t have to ask her to clarify what she meant. He nodded wordlessly.

“I didn’t plan on you finding out.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It was wrong for me to lie to Lip, I get that, but I couldn’t tell him I was carrying my dad’s kid. I thought he’d think less of me, or he’d dump me.”

“Mandy, the decision to tell him was up to you. You don’t owe anybody any explanation when it comes to your body. Even if you did cheat on him with someone else, that’s your decision to tell. Besides, he wouldn’t have thought less of you, Mandy.”

“Do you?”

“No,” Ian said without question.

“That’s why I have nightmares.”

“I figured.”

“Everything just happened so fast, and I couldn’t keep up with it. Lip, my dad, Mickey, it was like the universe set out to fuck me over. Now, it’s been years, and it’s still throwing shit in my face.”

“Mandy, I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. If it helps, I’m here to listen.”

Mandy sat up and turned to face him, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Wherever you want.”

“You won’t judge me?”

“I swear to you, Mandy. Nothing you say will leave this room. I promise.”

Mandy nodded, and then said, “When I met Lip I had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. I had been with this guy for like three years and he got me to move to Indiana with him. Then he just completely isolated me from my friends and family back home, and when I did talk to my family, I made it seem like everything was fine. I didn’t even know Mickey got out of prison until Sandy called and said they were throwing a welcome home party. I wanted to go, I really did, but he wouldn’t let me. I hadn’t seen my brother in over a year.

When Mickey found out, he was pissed. He got my address from Sandy and drove all the way down to Indianapolis to get me. When he saw my black eye and split lip, he made me pack my shit and go home. Luckily, Kenyatta wasn’t there at the time, but he did come back to Chicago for me, and my brothers nearly beat him to death. Anyway, Mickey made me get a job, so I got one at a café on the Northside.

Your brother would come in and stalk me,” she muttered with a smile, “Then after a few nights, I cornered him outside. That’s when it all started, I guess. I don’t know if I should have gotten into a relationship so quickly after Kenyatta, but Lip was different from any guy I’ve ever dated. I fell in love with him. I really wanted us to be forever… It’s a little late for that now, I think.”

Ian nodded, “When did _it_ happen?”

Mandy shook her head, her voice going small, “I was the only one in the house, and he was drunk again. I could smell it on him… I try not to think about it, but a little over a month later I started getting pregnancy symptoms. I was so fucking upset. I had no money to get an abortion, and I had no idea how to tell Lip. So, I decided to lie, and maybe we could work through it. But he wouldn’t let the fucking pregnancy thing go, and I wouldn’t tell him. One day he just stopped showing up at the café. I knew he went back to school, but he didn’t want to see me again. He made that very clear when he didn’t say goodbye.”

“When did Mickey find out?”

“After Lip left. I had just quit my job and was moping around the house. Eventually Mickey cornered me, and I just told him everything. I cried on his shoulder for maybe an hour, and then he got up and left. I didn’t know where he went, so I washed up and headed over to the Alibi with Sandy. Dad was there, and so were my brothers.”

“That’s when Mickey came in and fought your dad?”

Mandy nodded, “It happened so fast. He just barged in, drunk, and then he grabbed dad and threw him to the ground. Then he just started punching him, until dad finally hit back.”

“Mickey told me that’s when he came out to him. He just started screaming it.”

“Yeah, that really pissed off my dad, but I think it was what Mickey said to him before, that really set him off.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Mickey didn’t mention anything else.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell him.”

“What did he say?”

Mandy wiped at her eyes before saying, “When he threw my dad to the ground, and started beating the shit out him, he started yelling, _‘You raped my sister and got her pregnant, you piece of shit! I’m going to kill you!’_ Then Mickey started taunting him about getting beat by a fag, and that’s when dad lost it.”

“Shit,” Ian whispered.

“When they finally restrained my dad, I ran to Mickey. There was a lot going on, but I remember screaming his name, and holding him to my chest. He was so bloody, and limp. I thought he was dead. Luckily, V, came over and helped. She asked me if what Mickey said was true, and at first, I wanted to lie, but I trusted her. When the ambulance came, I rode to the hospital with Mickey. The cops came by to question me, while they had Mickey in surgery. They told me that everyone at the Alibi said Terry attacked Mickey, and then I knew V and Kev must have told them to,” she smiled, “It was good that I trusted them. V gave me some pills to help self-abort the baby. That way I didn’t have to pay to get it done.”

“What happened after Mickey’s surgery?”

“They put him in an induced coma for about a month. When he finally woke up, only one of us were allowed to go in there, so I went. Ian, he looked so pale. It was like a moving corpse. The doctors said he was on some pretty heavy drugs, so he probably wouldn’t remember what we talked about,” she paused for a moment, clearly preparing herself for what she was going to say next, “He thought I was my mom.”

“What, really?”

Mandy nodded, “Mom and I looked a lot alike, especially when she was younger. I don’t know how old he thought he was, maybe fourteen. He talked to me about things like school and just getting out of juvie. I didn’t have the heart to tell him who I really was. He just looked so happy to see her, and I know her death hit him hard. Maybe not as hard as Colin, but I know he really missed her. So, when he asked me why he was in the hospital, I just said that he got hit by a car while playing in the street. When he asked where our dad was, I said he was at home watching the game with our brothers. When he asked where I was, I told him I’d gone to the bathroom, but that I was really happy he was awake.

Then, after a few minutes of just letting him talk, he started crying. I’d never really seen Mickey cry before. When I asked him what’s wrong, he told me he couldn’t tell me, and when I asked why, he said if he told me I’d hate him. Finally, I convinced him to tell me and…,” Mandy covered her mouth, a broken sob escaping her lips, “he said, _‘Mom, I’m gay.’_ And- and I didn’t know what to do. Our mom died before Mickey had come out, and now here he was coming out to me, thinking I was mom.”

Ian didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he wished he’d known Mickey before. Maybe as teenagers, or at least when all that stuff had gone down. He wanted to have been there for Mickey and Mandy. Though, it just wasn’t in the cards. They were born into different ways of life. The fact Lip met Mandy was a coincidence, and the same for when Ian met Mickey. It was then when Ian realized he hadn’t said anything, and Mandy was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat, “What did you say back to him?”

“I just told him that I knew, and that it was ok, and that I loved him. Our mom wasn’t homophobic like our dad, but she would have made Mickey hide it, if anything to protect him from Terry. But our mom was dead, and our dad was locked back up, and I had the chance to give Mickey some peace of mind, even if he wouldn’t have remembered it. So, I hugged him, and I told him everything was going to be ok. I told him I loved him, and that I was proud of him, and that he should be proud of who he is. After that, when he was home and finally did come around to being able to remember basic things, he had forgotten that night at the Alibi completely. He definitely didn’t remember our talk at the hospital. Maybe, he’ll remember it all one day, or at least be able to feel it subconsciously. All I know is that I made him happy then, and that’s all that matters. He’d just gotten out of prison, and Yev had to see him lying in a hospital bed for a month. I just wanted him to be happy for one night, before a whole world of shit came crashing down on him again.”

Ian stayed silent after that. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he wasn’t supposed to say anything at all. He then felt Mandy lay her head back down on his chest. He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair.

“Thanks for listening, Ian.”

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

Mandy smiled up at him, and Ian smiled back.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang at the door, startling Ian, and Mandy out of their moment of peace. They both looked at each other in confusion when Ian heard a familiar voice on the other side.

“Mandy! Mandy, open up!”

Ian’s brow furrowed with worry, “Is that Lip?”

Mandy’s eyes widened, as the banging continued.

“How the hell does he know where you live?”

“Mandy, please let me in! I need to talk to you!” Lip slurred, as he kept banging on the door.

“The fuck is going on out here?!” Mickey questioned as he emerged from his room, only in basketball shorts. He looked like he’d just stepped out of the shower, “Who’s at the door?”

“It’s Lip,” Ian said, already halfway to the door with Mandy right behind him. When he threw the door open, Ian could already smell it on his breath. He looked at his brother standing in front of him, his hair disheveled, as he swayed back and forth a bit. Ian realized that Lip wasn’t just drunk, but completely hammered.

“What’s wrong with him? Is he drunk?” Mandy questioned in a whisper.

“Oh, Lip,” Ian said with a soft sadness to his voice, “You were doing so good.”

“Shit,” Mickey said, next to Mandy.

“Mandy, I need you to listen to me. Please don’t go back into the house,” Lip staggered towards her, and Mandy backed up.

“What is it?”

“I’m so sorry. I’m the biggest asshole on the planet. I should have never left you like that.”

Mandy crossed her arms, “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry, Mandy. I didn’t know the baby was your dad’s. And- and Ian I’m sorry I let old perverts touch you,” he said, causing Mandy to cover her face with embarrassment, and Ian to shush him. He didn’t stop, however, “Mickey, I’m sorry you got your head cracked open for being gay.”

“Lip, it’s fine. Just shut the fuck up,” Ian said through his teeth. He was worried the neighbors would hear.

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, Mandy! I’m gonna make it right between us!” Lip pointed at Mickey, “And you too! I’m gonna make it right between us, Mickey!”

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose, “I really don’t want that.”

“Because Lip Gallagher doesn’t give up!” he shouted, pointing to himself, and then looked up at the sky, like there was some mystical answer to all of this in the clouds, “You hear me?! Lip Gallagher doesn’t give up!”

“Will you people shut the fuck up?! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Yelled a neighbor, from their upstairs window.

“Aye, you shut the fuck up, and mind your business!” Mickey yelled back.

“Fuck you, Milkovich! I gotta get up early tomorrow for physical therapy! I need my eight hours of sleep!”

“Eight hours of sleep ain’t bringing your legs back!”

Ian gasped and smacked Mickey in the chest.

“Ow! What, that isn’t the truth?” Mickey grumbled, rubbing the spot where Ian hit him, “Besides, you shouldn’t feel bad for him, he’s a registered sex offender. Got his ass handed to him his first week here. Why the fuck do you think his legs are broken?”

“Yeah!” Lip said, pointing at the neighbor’s house. He then lost his balance and toppled backwards down the stairs.

“Fuck, Lip,” Ian said, making his way down to his brother. He crouched down to make sure Lip didn’t have a concussion or any broken bones, “Shit,” he looked to Mickey, who made his way down next to him, “Help me get him in the car.”

Mickey gave an exasperated sigh before grabbing Lip under one of his arms.

Mandy made her way over to them as they walked Lip to the car, “Is he ok?”

“He’s fine,” Ian said, opening the passenger door, “Just gotta sober him up and get him to a meeting.”

“A meeting? Like AA?”

“Yeah.”

“When did he start going to those?”

“After he got out of rehab,” Ian said, helping Lip in the car.

Mandy looked shocked, “He went to rehab? Why?”

“He’s an alcoholic.”

“He wasn’t like that when we were together.”

Ian didn’t say anything when he shut the door, and then Mandy understood.

“He went because of me. It’s my fault he’s like this.”

“No, it isn’t,” both Mickey and Ian said at the same time.

“It is. Look at him!”

“Mandy,” Ian said gently, “It isn’t your fault. Sure, your breakup caused him to spiral out, but he’s had problems with alcohol since he was nine. Look, if Lip were sober right now, he’d tell you not to blame yourself. He’ll be back to his old self soon. He just needs a week.”

Mickey nodded, “Here, I’ll give you Brad’s number. Just text him what happened and have Lip get in contact with him when he sobers up, yeah?”

Ian smiled at Mickey, giving him a kiss, before going around to get into the driver’s seat.

Mickey followed him around to the window, “Jesus, you weren’t kidding about your family.”

Ian smirked, “Too much for you to handle, Milkovich?”

“Never said that. You always the one that takes care of them?”

“We take care of each other. I’ll text you later, ok?”

“Ok,” he said, looking over at Lip, “Make sure he doesn’t puke all over your seats.”

Ian’s face broke out into a wide grin, “Aww, Mickey. You care about Lip.”

“Fuck you, is what I care about,” he said, showing just hints of a smile, “Night, Gallagher.”

“Night, Mick,” he said, before driving off. As he drove home Ian played Mickey’s words in his head repeatedly. _‘You always the one that takes care of them?’_ It made Ian feel like a fraud, because usually it was the other way around.

Ian looked over at his brother, who was now asleep. He sighed, “Goodnight, Lip.”


	12. A Little Help Goes A Long Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's chapter twelve! Ok, not much to say, but there are chapter warnings such as: mentions of abuse. I'm actually very excited for the next few chapter, and it just has a lot of interesting stuff. I think you guys will be satisfied with it. Anyway, thank you as always for the kudos and the kind comments. And thanks for reading!

On Tuesday, Mickey awoke to the feeling of Ian pressed up against his back.

He let a smile creep onto his face as he felt Ian’s nose brush up against him, breathing softly and tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He then felt Ian’s hand untangle itself from his and travel up to Mickey’s hip bone, where Ian rubbed at it with his thumb.

Mickey’s grin widened when Ian started to run feather like kisses along his neck. Mickey never thought in a million years that he’d ever let a guy do this to him. It all felt so domestic, and so foreign. Everything Ian said, everything he did, everything he _was_ , made Mickey feel different and new, but it was good.

Letting his guard down wasn’t something Mickey did with people, especially guys he slept with. He was never really a risk taker when it came to dating, because Mickey never really wanted to date. So, to put trust into someone, letting himself fall without a safety net, scared him. Sometimes it felt too much, like he was drowning in it, in Ian’s affection. Yet, Ian was always there to catch him when he fell, and to breath new life into him. It made it all bearable somehow, the vulnerability. Not even bearable but anticipated. Only if it were Ian. Yes, when it was Ian, drowning didn’t seem so bad.

Mickey brought his free hand up to where Ian was still rubbing his hip, and put it over Ian’s, rubbing his own thumb over his lover’s knuckles.

Ian moved his nose to Mickey’s hair, inhaling deeply, before moving his head back a bit.

Suddenly, Mickey was met with a hard hit to the jaw, causing him to swing his head back into Ian’s nose. It had happened so quickly, Mickey thought for a moment that everything that’d happened to him the past ten years had just been a dream, and he’s fifteen again, being violently awoken by his father.

Mickey swore as he slowly blinked his eyes open. He then came face to face with his son’s foot. He lifted his head, propping himself on one elbow, to see his son sleeping at the edge of the bed.

Before he could even think about why Yevgeny’s head was at the foot of the bed, he heard Ian say, “Fuck.”

Mickey turned toward Ian, to see him holding his nose.

Ian smiled ruefully, “Good morning.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “Hardly,” he muttered, looking back over at Yevgeny, who was starting to stir, “Well, good fuckin’ morning, sleeping beauty.”

“What’s goin’ on?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh, nothin’. Just being woken up by a kick to the face.”

“What?” Yevgeny blinked up at him in confusion.

“The fuck you doin’ at the end of the bed?”

It took Yevgeny awhile to collect his thoughts, but then he answered with, “Sleeping.”

Mickey wasn’t amused by that answer, and he definitely wasn’t amused when he heard Ian chuckle next to him. “No fuckin’ shit, kid. I mean _why_ are you sleeping at the end of the bed?”

“Cus’ I wanted to.”

“Not a good answer.”

“It was too hot,” Yevgeny whined, “and you were breathing on me.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows, “I was breathing on you?”

“Yeah.”

“So what?”

“I don’t like it!” Yevgeny whined again, kicking a little bit. He seemed to be in a grouchy mood.

“Aw shit,” Ian said, making Mickey to turn back towards him. His nose was bleeding profusely.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Mickey muttered.

Ian shrugged apologetically, holding his hand under his nose, letting the blood fall into it, which caused some of it to dribble down onto his chest.

“Well get outta bed, drippy. I don’t want my sheets covered in it.”

Ian rolled his eyes, getting out of bed. He grabbed his jeans and his overnight bag and walked into the bathroom.

Mickey sighed and decided he might as well get up too. He had to go to work in an hour and he still needed to feed Yevgeny and drop him off at camp. He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake up. He then looked over at Yevgeny, who had gone back to sleep, “Oh, no ya don’t,” he grumbled, ripping the blanket off of his son, “Up, Yev.”

Yevgeny growled, kicking out, trying to grab for the blanket, “No, I wanna stay in bed!”

“Yeah? Well, I wanna be able to sleep without getting kung-fu kicked in the face. We can’t always get what we want,” he said, standing up, “Don’t make me get a bucket of ice water. That’s how my pops used to wake me up.”

Yevgeny cried and kicked out again, throwing a tantrum.

Mickey ignored him, letting Yevgeny get his anger out. He wouldn’t really throw ice water on his son, but fuck if it weren’t an effective way to get someone out of bed. On one occasion, Terry threw the water on him, and then beat him with the bucket, just because Mandy was gone and there wasn’t anyone else in the house to make breakfast.

Leaving his son in bed, Mickey walked towards the bathroom. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to comfort Yevgeny, but there was literally no consoling him when he was like that. Mickey assumed it would be best to let him get all his fight out, and then they could talk about it.

As he entered the bathroom, he saw Ian still in his boxers, with toilet paper shove up his nostrils. Mickey gravitated closer to him, as Ian washed the blood from his hand, and wipe off his neck.

Ian looked at him through the reflection of the mirror and smiled at him, “Sorry about all the blood. On the bright side, I don’t think you broke it.”

Mickey let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. Even though it was an accident, he didn’t want Ian to have a broken nose because of him. “That’s good,” he murmured and wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist. He kissed Ian’s shoulder blade, “Sorry I rammed my head into your nose. Want me to kiss it better?”

He saw Ian’s grin widen in the mirror, and he turned around to face Mickey. Mickey cupped Ian’s face and he leaned up to kiss his lover on the bridge of his nose. It was probably the softest shit Mickey had ever done, and if anyone outside of the bathroom found out, he’d have to kill them.

Ian winced from the pain, but he was still smiling.

Mickey pulled back to stare into Ian’s beautiful green eyes when something caught his attention. On the side of the sink, there was a prescription bottle. It wasn’t one of his, and it hadn’t been there the night before, so it had to have been Ian’s. Mickey raised an eyebrow at him, “You sick or something?”

“Huh?”

Mickey motioned to the sink, “The pill bottle?”

“Oh,” Ian turned towards the sink and laughed, “Nah, I pulled a muscle working out. The doctor gave me some pain pills,” he said, picking the bottle up, and then putting it into his overnight bag. He turned back to Mickey and smiled at him.

“Oh,” Mickey said, and then reached up to rub Ian’s shoulders, “Pulled a muscle, huh? This it up here?”

Ian let his eyes slip shut, “Mmm, it’s actually lower.”

Mickey let a sly grin come over his face as he moved his hands down to rub up and down Ian’s chest, “Here?” he asked in a husky voice. When Ian shook his head, Mickey dragged his fingernails gently down Ian’s stomach, and rubbed at his hips, “How about now?”

“Getting warmer.”

Mickey then finally grabbed Ian’s dick, loving the way Ian’s breath hitched when he did it.

“Oh, that’s it, baby. Right there.”

Mickey decided to ignore the pet name, and rubbed Ian through his boxers, when suddenly, the door swung wide open, and Mickey broke away from Ian faster than anything.

Yevgeny walked into the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced up at the two men and eyed them suspiciously, “Were you two having sex?”

Ian choked out a laugh, while Mickey just scowled and said, “No, we weren’t having sex.”

“Are you sure?”

Mickey, who was now starting to feel the heat rise up in his cheeks from embarrassment, said, “Yes, I’m sure. Also don’t ask people that. You’re six years old, you shouldn’t even know what sex is.”

Yevgeny crossed his arms, “ _I_ know what sex is. Mommy lets me watch Game of Thrones.”

“Well she shouldn’t.”

Ian looked to Mickey, “Aren’t you the one who let him watch American Pie with us a couple nights ago?”

“Whose side are you on, Gallagher?” he questioned, while Ian just shrugged. He then looked over at Yevgeny, “Look, just get in the shower and get ready for camp. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude this morning,” Mickey said, as he walked over to the bathroom door.

“Fine,” Yevgeny grumbled.

“And I mean a shower, not a bath,” he said, with his hand on the door, “And I mean a real shower. Don’t just turn the shower on, lay in the tub, and let the water run over you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes when all Yevgeny did was stomp his foot and groan. He left the bathroom, and quickly got dressed, slipping on his jeans and his work shirt. He rolled on some deodorant, and then made his way out of his room and into the kitchen, where Sandy was frying bacon and eggs.

“Morning,” she said, “I made coffee.”

“You got some Whiskey I can put in it?”

“Right, because what you really need is alcohol before you drive your son to camp, and then go to work to fix motorcycles,” she quipped, and then turned around to face Mickey, “Rough morning?”

“Yevgeny’s in one of his moods again. I swear that kid gets mouthier every time I see him.”

“What’s that old saying about reaping what you sow?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t expect you to get it. You don’t even have kids.”

“And I plan to keep it that way. Ah, the beauty of being a lesbian.”

“You could still have kids if you’re a lesbian. There’s adoption, and insemination.”

Sandy snorted out a laugh, “Yeah fucking right, I get enough of a headache having to look after your spawn,” she said, but then quickly added, “I love him to death though.”

“No, you’re right. Don’t have kids. I would die for Yev, but Christ if he isn’t pushing it today.”

“What happened?”

“Well, first, I woke up to a lovely greeting of him kicking me in the face. He was laying down on the opposite side of the bed because I was ‘breathing on him’. Like, my fucking bad. Sorry I have to do that to stay alive. Then he didn’t want to get up for camp, and then he walked in on me and Ian in the bathroom and then asked us if we were having sex.”

“Were you?”

“No.”

Sandy gave Mickey a look.

“It wasn’t sex! Just some casual fondling.”

“So, let me get this straight. You got mad at your son for kicking you, when you invited another person into the bed, making it harder to move around. Then you got upset when he didn’t want to get up to get ready for camp, and then when he did finally get up to get ready, you got pissed because he got rightfully upset when he saw you, his father, groping another man in the bathroom?”

“He didn’t actually catch us doing it,” Mickey grumbled.

“Yeah, ok, that makes it better.”

“You are right about one thing though, that bed is too small for the three of us. I need to find a way to fix that.”

“I’d suggest kicking the jolly red giant out of your bed,” Sandy said, and then went back to cooking.

"Fuck you, why do I tell you anything?” Mickey snapped, and then said, “Maybe I could get a small bed for Yevgeny, and put it somewhere in my room, or the living room.”

Sandy stopped a moment, not looking up, “Yeah, actually. That might not be a bad idea.”

“ _Maybe_ I could talk to Ian about only sleeping in my bed when Yev is at his mom’s. It’s just hard, when every time one of our fucking cousins come over they try to kick him off the couch, and I’m sure that wouldn’t stop even if I get him like an air mattress or something,” he said, before grabbing a cup of coffee and taking a sip. He then grabbed one of the already made plates of food, and started scarfing it down, “Where’d you get the money for bacon and eggs? We don’t get paid until Friday,” he said between mouthfuls of food.

Sandy turned to him again, “Ian gave me money for groceries last night.”

Mickey stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth, “Ian what?”

As if he were summoned, Ian walked out of Mackey’s room, fully dressed for the day. He still had the toilet paper shoved up his nose, and a bruise was starting to stand out against Ian’s pale skin. “Mmm, smells good, Sandy,” he said, plucking a piece of bacon off one of the plates, taking a bite.

“What the hell happened to your face?”

“Mickey accidentally headbutted me this morning,” Ian laughed, looking over at Mickey who was staring at Ian with a serious expression, “What?”

“You gave Sandy money for food?”

Ian shrugged, “Yeah, what’s the big deal?”

“How much did you give her?”

“Mickey.”

“How much?”

Ian sighed, rolling his eyes, “Fifty.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Mick, you don’t have to.”

“I’m not taking handouts from you, _Ian_ ,” Mickey said, setting his plate down on the counter.

“It isn’t a handout, _Mickey_. I eat here, and I sleep here too. I should contribute a little, right?” Ian questioned, coming up behind Mickey and wrapping his arms around the older boy’s waist. He put his lips behind Mickey’s ear, mouthing at that one spot that made Mickey melt, “It was just fifty bucks, Mick. Let it go.”

“I just don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Sandy scoffed, “Please, you think you’re taking advantage of him? You got this guy who’s fucking loaded, literally eating out of the palm of your hand. Like I’m sure he’d give you anything you wanted. And you’re over here complaining about fifty bucks? You’re the worst sugar baby ever.”

“Pretty sure I’d have to be older than him, for him to be my sugar baby, but she’s right, Mickey. You don’t ever ask me for anything. I chose to do this because I felt like I was taking advantage of _your_ hospitality. Just let me help sometimes, ok? I want to.”

Mickey stayed quiet for a moment, letting himself think about Ian’s words. He sighed, “Fine.”

Ian smiled and kissed Mickey on the cheek, “Good,” he said, pulling back from the dark-haired boy. He then turned around to grab a cup of coffee.

“Great,” Sandy said, turning off the stove, “Now, that Mr. Moneybags over here is financially supporting us, maybe he can help with the Yev situation.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “What Yev situation?”

“Nothing,” Mickey said, and then turned to Sandy, “Why can’t you ever keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“What? You want to keep waking up every morning breaking Ian’s nose?” She looked to Ian, “Mickey’s wanting to get Yev a new bed, or a new place to sleep, so you’re not all crowded in one bed.”

“Oh,” Ian blinked, “Well, that makes sense. I can help with that.”

“I was thinking an air mattress, or let him sleep in the living room like his mom does,” Mickey chewed on the bottom of his lip, “But then again, I don’t want to make him feel like I’m kicking him out, or that I’m choosing you over him.”

Ian nodded, “I get that. I can still sleep on the couch, or on an air mattress if you want. That way Yev can continue to sleep with you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind. That’s your kid, man.”

“As cute as this little display of sacrifice is,” Sandy said with a bored expression, “I have a better idea.”

Mickey crossed his arms, “Which is?”

“Look, Yev _is_ getting older, Mickey. He can’t keep sleeping in the bed with you. He’s gotta get his own room.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “Where is this coming from?”

Sandy sighed, “When I went to pick Yev up from camp yesterday, one of the counselors told me that during arts and crafts, they were supposed to draw a picture of what their bedroom looked like, which prompted Yev to tell them that he doesn’t have one. The counselor gave me all that bullshit about children need their own space, but how she mentioned it freaked me out.”

“You think they’ll call DCFS?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, but you can never be to careful,” Sandy shrugged.

“Shit,” Mickey seethed, “And you’re just bringing this up now?”

“I was waiting to get you when you were in a better mood, but you mentioned the whole bed thing this morning, so I guess I’m doing it now.”

“That would explain how he was acting this morning, Mickey,” Ian chimed in.

Mickey groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did everything have to be so fucking difficult all the time? “Yeah, I get it, and I know, but look around, Sandy. This isn’t exactly the Ritz. We don’t have an unlimited number of bedrooms.”

It was the truth. They lived in a five-bedroom house. When they were children, Mickey and Mandy had gotten their own rooms, while Colin and Iggy shared a room, and Jaime and Joey shared another one. When Jaime and Joey decided to pack up and go live with their dad, the bedroom close to the kitchen was up for grabs, and Mickey threatened to beat the shit out of Iggy and Colin if they even thought about taking it. So, Iggy ended up taking Mickey’s old room, and Colin got their room all to himself.

When Mickey was sent to prison, Svetlana had taken the room with Yevgeny, until Mickey got out and they finally divorced, and then Mickey was back home, and Svetlana had moved in with her boyfriend in West Englewood. Sandy moved in when Mickey came back, staying in Mandy’s room, until Mandy came back. Now, they both shared it. When their dad got hauled off to prison, Jaime and Joey moved back in. Jaime taking Terry’s old room, and Joey taking Iggy’s old room. Iggy was the one most frequently in and out of the house, so he slept on the couch when he decided to come back, or sometimes in his old room when Joey was out. Not to mention the cousins and uncles that would stop by.

Mickey thought about this, he thought about all of it. There was literally nowhere else for Yevgeny to go. Then again if the bitch counselor decided to make a call then he’d be fucked. Though if that were to happen and Yevgeny was taken away, it wouldn’t be hard to get him back. Growing up in and out of the broken foster care system taught Mickey that much, but he’d be damned if he were going to let Yevgeny go through any of that.

“I was thinking about the storage room,” Sandy said, snapping Mickey out of his thoughts.

“You want me to put my son in a closet?”

“It’s a room, Mickey, not a closet. Look, I know it’s small, but if we clean it out, it’s big enough to put a bed and a dresser in there.”

“Sandy there’s a reason we just kept throwing shit in there, it’s a fuckin’ wreck. The fucking window’s broken from when Colin accidentally knocked a baseball through it. The carpet probably still smells like animal piss from that time Iggy tried to hide a pet possum from mom and pops. There’s a bunch of holes in the wall, probably rats and rat shit, because the little fuckers go in and out of the wall. Not to mention it’s crammed with everyone’s shit. Where are we supposed to put all of it?”

“Well, first we can clean it out and go through everything. Anything that’s your mom or dad’s, we’ll put them in tubs and stick’em in your dad’s room. Everything else we can either keep or sell. As for the room, we have plaster, we have spare paint that matches the walls. I’m sure we can get glass to replace the windowpane and borrow a shampooer from someone.”

“I have a carpet cleaner,” Ian said.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “That great and all, but what about the bed and the dresser? I’m not exactly rolling in money here.”

“I can get that stuff,” Ian said.

“No, you won’t,” Mickey argued, “Groceries are one thing, but this is different.”

“The most expensive thing would be the mattress and box spring. We can get the bed frame and the dresser at a yard sale, or a thrift store,” Sandy said.

Mickey stayed silent, thinking it over. It wasn’t really anything he’d ever thought about before. Mickey never really looked too far into the future, so he never anticipated a day when Yevgeny wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him, but now, Yevgeny finally having a room to call his very own could all be possible. If they could pull it off, Yevgeny would be over the moon excited. This would also be good news for Mickey, because it would free his bed up for Ian.

Mickey finally nodded his head, “Yeah, I think that could work. Don’t know when I’d find the time to get it done though.”

“Well, Mandy and I are off this Saturday.”

“Yeah, so am I. I think Colin is too. What about you? What are you doing Saturday?” Mickey asked Ian.

Ian shrugged with a grin, “I guess I’m helping you clean out a storage room.”

Sandy nodded, “Bring your shampooer. Oh, I could also see if Jaime and Joey could help too. With all of us working together, we could easily get it all done in one day.”

“Yeah, we could,” Mickey said, “I could call Svet, and see if she’ll get Yev out of the house Saturday, so we can surprise him.”

“Good idea,” Sandy said, as Yevgeny walked into the kitchen. She quickly clamped her mouth shut and turned around to eat her breakfast.

Mickey then picked up a plate of food and set it down at the table, “Hey, man. Here’s breakfast.”

Yevgeny nodded, but didn’t head towards the table. Instead, he walked up to Mickey and wrapped his arms around his father’s waist, “Sorry for being a meanie, daddy.”

Mickey smirked, and ruffled his son’s hair, “Don’t sweat it, man. We all have our mornings.”

Yevgeny looked up at Ian, still holding onto his dad, “Sorry about your nose, Ian.”

Ian smiled, “It’s fine, not your fault, Yev.”

“Go eat your breakfast,” Mickey said, his voice soft and affectionate.

Yevgeny let go of Mickey, and then sat down at the table. He looked down at his plate in awe, “Eggs and bacon? Did we win the lottery?”

“Ian bought it,” Mickey said, laughing a little as he watched his son shovel eggs into his mouth.

“Thanks, Ian!” Yevgeny said with his mouthful.

“When you’re finished, Yev, go straight to the truck. We’re running behind today,” Mickey said, as he put his dishes in the sink.

“Mandy has the truck,” Sandy said, and Mickey spun around.

“What?”

“Yeah, she left to go meet up with that Lip guy about an hour ago.”

“Why doesn’t anyone ever ask me to borrow my truck?! It’s _my_ truck!”

Sandy shrugged, “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Yeah, well the messenger needs to work on telling me this shit in advance.”

“I’ll drive you,” Ian said, and Yevgeny jumped up and down in his seat.

“Yay, Ian’s car! I like Ian’s car better!”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Better? What’s wrong with mine?”

“It’s got no AC, dad,” Yevgeny complained.

Mickey rolled his eyes, and then turned to Ian, “Alright, let’s go.”

When Mickey arrived at work, Brad was waiting for him. He told Mickey that they were short staffed that day, and Mickey would have to work on most of the bikes by himself, but not to worry because Lip was coming back tomorrow. Mickey wanted to ask how Lip was doing, but he decided against it.

When Brad left to go do paperwork in his office, Mickey started on his first bike. As he was doing so, he thought about what Lip would say if he were there. He’d probably criticize Mickey on how he was fixing the bike and would arrogantly tell him how his way of fixing it was faster. It should have been a relief that Lip had been gone for a week, and if this had happened at the beginning of summer, it would have been. But now after getting to know Lip more, and really talking with him, Mickey found himself missing the guy.

At the beginning of summer, Mickey couldn’t stand Lip, and he’d been counting down the days he wouldn’t have to see that Northside prick’s face again, but feelings change. That was more than evident with Ian. At the beginning of summer, Mickey was adamant about doing everything he could to avoid the other boy, but now they were in the final weeks of July, and Mickey couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to keep Ian away as long as he did. It was something Mickey really hounded himself for. He really regretted not being with Ian sooner.

Mickey grabbed a wrench from his toolbox and squatted down to tighten some bolts at the bottom of the bike. Suddenly, a pair of footsteps brought Mickey out of his thoughts. He looked up to see it was Tami, of all people. He rolled his eyes, “Cami’s out for the day.”

Tami, whose demeanor was unusually shy, rubbed her arm and said, “Uh, yeah, actually I’m not here to see my sister.”

“Brad’s in his office.”

“Not here for Brad.”

“Lip isn’t here either,” Mickey said, knowing that Tami and Lip had been getting close recently. There would be times Tami would come in to see Cami, and Lip would always try to find some way to talk to her. At first, it was obvious that Tami was annoyed by Lip, but soon her behavior started to change, and she started talking back, and then the talking turned into flirting, and then eventually, Tami wouldn’t just come by to see her sister, but Lip too. Mickey didn’t know how much Tami knew about Mandy and Lip. Hell, he didn’t even know if Mandy had told her yet. If she did, Mickey was interested to see how it would affect Lip and Tami’s relationship. Because, even though she’s a bitch, Mickey knew that if it came down to it, Tami would choose Mandy over Lip.

“I know,” she said, with a hint of sadness in her voice, “I came to see you.”

Mickey raised his brow, “What?”

Tami crossed her arms, “Yeah.”

“The fuck do you want from me?”

“It’s just I talked to your sister.”

“Ok?”

“She told me everything that happened between her and Lip.”

“Oh,” Mickey said, and then stood up to face Tami. He wiped his hands off on his rag, and then tossed it down on the bike, “And?”

“Well, first, the coincidence of all this is really weird.”

Mickey nodded, knowing what she meant. Tami was one of the only people who knew Mandy’s whole story, like Mickey and his family did. When Mickey had first started out at the shop, Mandy would hang out occasionally, and that’s when she met Tami. When everything with Mandy and their father happened, Tami was there for Mandy and their family, when Mickey was in the hospital. For some reason Mandy had decided to trust her, and thankfully, Tami didn’t let her down. And, even though Mickey didn’t like her, he was grateful for that at least.

Tami laughed a little, “Yeah, I mean what are the odds? The guy that broke Mandy’s heart would end up working with you, and you’d end up screwing his brother.”

“The guy who broke Mandy’s heart, that you also have a crush on,” Mickey said matter-of-factly.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes, “You two are like a couple of dogs in heat.”

“You’re disgusting,” Tami sneered.

“Yeah, but I’m also right. I’m assuming Mandy told you to stay away from him?”

Tami bit her lip, “Actually, no. She said Lip’s a great guy, it’s just the whole situation with them was really fucked up.”

“Yeah, but does she know you want to get with him?”

Tami nodded, “I’d actually been planning to ask him out for drinks last Friday, but then I heard about the whole Lip situation from Brad. Well, he didn’t tell me. I overheard his conversation with Lip over the phone when I was visiting Cami. So, then I decided to talk to Mandy about it, and now I’m here.”

“Yeah, but why are you _here_? Where do I fit into all this?”

“Well, I came for your advice, actually,” Tami mumbled, causing Mickey to let out a surprised laugh.

“You fucking what?”

Tami narrowed her eyes, “I came for your advice, jackass, but I’m starting to regret it now.”

“Advice for what?”

“About Lip, you moron.”

“Why? It’s not like I’ve dated him before.”

“I know that. It’s just, y’know, Mandy is one of my best friends, and she’s always been so supportive, and my sisters too. I just want someone to tell it to me how it is, someone who doesn’t care about hurting my feelings. I want your honest opinion about Lip, I mean you work with him.”

“Yeah, but so does Brad. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Brad’s nice and all, but you,” Tami’s face turned scarlet red before she said, “I don’t know. You’re like the stupid, asshole, big brother I never had. I know that despite how much you say you don’t like me, you’d tell me if I was wasting my time with Lip. So, I want your advice. Should I give Lip a chance?”

Mickey crossed his arms, “You want my honest opinion?”

“Yes.”

“I think you should go for it.”

Tami’s face fell, “That’s not what you were supposed to say.”

Mickey looked dumbfounded, “You said you wanted my honest opinion!”

“Yeah, because I thought you’d say not to go for it!”

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose, “Christ, I don’t have time for this. Obviously, you want to date him, but you don’t want to get hurt, because of what Lip has done in the past. So, instead you want someone to tell you not to date him, so you feel like you’re making the right choice, even though you really want to take a chance on him. Am I getting all this right?”

Tami blinked at him, “Yeah, actually.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. He’d become more perceptive since he started dating Ian, Mr. ‘let’s talk about our feelings.’

“I just don’t know what to do,” Tami said.

Mickey sighed, “Look, Lip’s an asshole, but you’re also a bitch so I guess it could work out. What I mean is if you like him then go for it. Mandy already gave you the green light, you know you like him, and you know he likes you back. The only person who’s stopping you is you. So, do it if you want to. If it doesn’t work out, at least you won’t have to spend your life wondering if it would have.”

Tami chewed at her bottom lip, seeming to be thinking over Mickey’s words. Finally, she said, “Ok, yeah. I think I’ll give it a go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Mickey said, before going back to his work, but not before he heard Tami say.

“Thanks, Mickey. Y’know, for helping me out.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, trying to seem as annoyed as possible.

“When you see Lip, could you give him my number?”

Mickey looked back up at her in confusion, “I don’t have your number.”

“What do you mean you don’t have my number? I’ve given it to you like five times.”

Mickey shrugged.

Tami groaned, “You are literally the worst,” she said, taking a small note pad and a pen out of her purse. She scribbled her number down on it and then tore off the paper, and gave it to Mickey, “Here. Make sure he gets it when he comes back.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, dickhead,” she said, before turning on her heel and walking out of the garage.

Mickey looked at it for a moment before shoving it into his pocket. He then leaned back down to where he was at before Tami’s interruption and got back to work.

After work, Mickey was picked up by Ian, and they both headed over to the Alibi. Mickey wanted to stay for a couple of drinks, but after an hour, he was wanting to just go home. It wasn’t like there was much to do there anyway. The pool table was occupied, and so were the bathrooms, so no spontaneous sex. Also, the radio was broken, thanks to Ian’s drunk sister, so now they had absolutely no access to any sports game.

However, when Mickey tried to get Ian to leave, Ian replied with ‘just a couple more minutes.’ It was driving him insane. It had been a long day, and all Mickey wanted to do was go home and spend time with his family, surprisingly.

“Dude, let’s fucking leave. I’m tired, and we gotta get back home for dinner.”

“Just a few more minutes, Mick,” Ian said again, and then he used that stupid pout of his, that made Mickey want to slap and kiss him at the same time.

“We can’t stay too long. We promised Yev we’d cook out for dinner. I wanna grill before it gets too dark.”

“I get that.”

“Y’know, we have beer at home.”

“I know, but there’s a reason we’re here,” Ian said with a knowing smile.

Mickey quirked an eyebrow. There wasn’t any reason to be at the Alibi unless it was to get shitfaced drunk on shitty beer or receive a mediocre hand job in the bathroom. It occurred to Mickey then that Ian brought him here tonight for a specific reason, and that caused Mickey to panic. Was Ian one of those guys who celebrated monthly anniversaries? Were they even at that stage in their relationship to have those? Mickey sure as shit didn’t get him anything. He sneaked a peak over at Ian, who was casually sipping his beer, and every so often, would look at the door. Mickey had no idea what Ian was planning, but apparently it meant staying at the Alibi, so he settled in and waited.

About ten minutes later, a delivery man walked through the door and up to the bar.

Mickey assumed this was why Ian dragged him here, because the redhead’s face immediately brightened.

Kev walked up to the guy, “Hey, man, what can I get you?”

“Uh, nothing. You the owner?”

Kev crossed his arms, “Who’s asking?”

“I got a delivery here. A 75” flat screen tv.”

Kev’s eyes widened, and at that point V had made her way over to her husband.

“You must be mistaken, actually. We didn’t order a-”

“Finally!” Kev sighed in relief, “I was wondering when you guys would show up. I’ve been waiting all damn day.”

V looked to Kev with shock.

“Yeah, we’ve been behind schedule today. Want us to set it up?”

“Absolutely,” Kev said, and smiled as the man nodded and left.

“Kev,” V snapped, smacking him in the chest, “you bought a tv behind my back? Where on earth did you get the money for that?”

“I didn’t,” Kev protested, “Obviously, they delivered it to the wrong place. Lucky us, huh?”

“No, Kev, not ‘lucky us’. We didn’t pay for it. Now, you’re gonna tell that man he made a mistake. I’m not hijacking someone else’s tv.”

“Oh, c’mon, V,” Kev whined.

Mickey looked over at Ian, who was causally sipping on his drink. Mickey laughed a little, “You mother fucker,” he said.

Ian put his drink down and smiled, “What?”

“Wanna just tell them?”

“Tell us what?” V questioned, narrowing her eyes at Mickey and Ian.

Ian blushed a bit and said, “I bought it.”

V crossed her arms, “You what?”

“I bought it for the bar.”

“Didn’t I tell you that I wasn’t going to let you buy us a tv?”

“Yes,” Ian said, slowly, “but since my sister broke the radio. I thought it was only right to compensate you.”

“No. Take it back.”

Kev huffed, “C’mon, V, let him compensate us.”

“No, now I told you I didn’t want to spend any of your-”

“It’s not my money. I used my dad’s credit card.”

Mickey couldn’t help but grin at that.

V rolled her eyes, “Well, I don’t want to use your dad’s money. It makes me feel awful. It makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Ian scoffed, “Trust me, you don’t have to feel awful about using Frank’s money. He’s a piece of shit, drug addicted alcoholic. He deserves to be taken advantage of. V, I promise you, you’re not taking advantage of me. I got you this tv for purely selfish reasons if that makes you feel any better.”

V bit her lip, “I don’t know.”

At that moment, the delivery guys carried the tv in, and Kev and V gaped at the giant screen.

Ian sighed, “I guess if you really want me to take it back. I can tell them to-”

“No, no,” V said quickly, “Actually, I think we can accept this gift.”

Ian smiled.

“But, don’t make a habit out of it.”

Ian held up his hands, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Also, let me get you a free shot.”

“Hell, V, let’s get everybody a free shot, on the house,” Kev said, and the bar patrons cheered.

Mickey accepted his free shot and downed it, the same time as Ian. They both looked to each other and smiled. In that moment Mickey felt very lucky to know Ian. He was a good guy. Mickey need more good guys in his life.

The next morning when Mickey came into work, Lip was already there, talking to Brad.

Mickey ignored him, and went into the office to clock in. When he came back into the garage, he made a b-line for the bike he was working on. A few minutes later, Lip went over to Mickey, and Mickey was still adamant on ignoring Lip.

It wasn’t anything Lip had done, but what Mickey did. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt guilty about what happened that night outside the Alibi.

Though Lip didn’t stay silent forever, and he cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Lip continued to stand there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Mickey noticed this and he rolled his eyes, “You waitin’ for an invitation? Brad doesn’t pay you to stand around and look pretty all day.”

Lip dipped his head, hiding his smile. He chuckled, “Brad doesn’t pay me at all. Intern, remember?”

Mickey stiffened a bit. _‘Intern, remember?’_ Yeah, Mickey remembered. Intern, college intern, interning for the guy who’s supposed to be his sponsor, his sponsor for his alcoholism, something Mickey was sure he triggered after he beat the fuck out of Lip. He looked away, “Yeah, I remember.”

“You, ok?” Lip question in a concerned voice.

Was he ok? Was this guy serious? Mickey still didn’t look up, when he said, “Yup.”

“No witty comeback? No cussing me out? Not even one of your signature Milkovich ‘I’ll fucking kill you’ stares?”

Mickey finally looked up at him with a glare, and Lip gave him a weak smile.

“See, there it is.”

Mickey continued to glare, but he also concentrated on Lip’s injuries. He was still fucked up from when Mickey had hit him. It made Mickey’s stomach churn, because even though it was Lip’s fault for his sister’s heartbreak, he didn’t deserve the beatdown Mickey put on him. If he were honest with himself, Mickey wasn’t just beating up Lip that night. When he heard Lip say, _‘Mickey, I didn’t know.’_ He lost it. Because, a lot of shit could happen from not knowing. Because, when Lip said that, in his mind he heard, _‘Mickey, I didn’t know. Mickey, I didn’t try hard enough to find out. Mickey, I actively went out of my way to not find out.’_ He then let his thoughts shift to, _‘Mandy, I didn’t notice the signs after mom had died. Mandy, I didn’t stick around when we were younger to protect you. Mandy, I didn’t want to acknowledge the signs that you were being abused by our father. Mandy, I was afraid of our father. Mandy, I was afraid to find out. Mandy, please forgive me. Mandy, I’m sorry. Mandy, I didn’t know.’_

It was obvious to Mickey, that he took his anger out on Lip, not only for what Lip had done to Mandy, but for what he’d also done. After their mother died, Mickey didn’t want to see what was right in front of him. He pushed it away and made excuses. He pushed it so far back, he was oblivious when it was happening. However, when Mickey finally got her to talk to him about her breakup with Lip a couple years ago, and she told him everything, Mickey felt all of those forgotten memories come rushing back to him, and he realized that he could have done something a lot sooner.

The guilt crushed him. It caused him to drink himself into a stupor and beat up his dad. It caused him to fall violently sick every time Mandy would wake up screaming and clawing at herself. It caused him to beat Lip, nearly into a coma, because when he was kicking Lip on the ground, he felt like he was also kicking himself. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair to Lip. It wasn’t his fault Mickey couldn’t protect his sister. It was all him.

Now, along side the guilt of Mandy, and getting locked up in prison before the birth of his son, Mickey now had a new one to add to the list. He knew how bad alcoholism could be. He had friends and family absolutely destroyed by it. Hell, Lip told him that night he was triggered by stress, and what did Mickey do? He took all his anger and threw it onto this guy, who didn’t deserve what Mickey did to him, even with the shit he did to Mandy. It was like Mickey had no control over his body when he was hurting Lip. He took all his frustration out on him, not caring about the consequences, and Lip slipped up and had to suffer for it. Fuck, Mickey really was his father’s son.

Lip furrowed his brow when Mickey kept staring at his cuts and bruises. He seemed to understand, “Doctor said there was no internal bleeding. My face should heal completely in a couple weeks. Good thing the guy that kicked my ass hit like a high school freshman,” he laughed, but his smile soon fell when he saw Mickey flinch. It must have been jarring for Lip, to see Mickey anything else than confident, or standoffish. Lip took a step closer, and leaned on the bike, crossing his arms, “Hey, really. Are you ok?”

Mickey cleared his throat, he really didn’t want to do this right now, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Look, I get it,” Lip finally said, “If you don’t want to talk to me anymore that’s fine. I hurt Mandy really bad. If it makes you feel any better, we talked it out. We’re ok now. I don’t really know where we’re going from here, but I really want to be her friend again.”

“Great,” Mickey grumbled.

“I was hoping we could be friends too. You dating my brother and all, it would be kinda hard to avoid you. I get it though. You don’t have to like me. Just know that the offer is on the table.”

Mickey looked to Lip as if he’d lost his mind. Was he fucking serious? First, he comes back to work as if nothing happened, making jokes, and then he apologizes to Mickey, when it was Mickey’s fault any of this happened in the first place. He was the one who abandoned Mandy, he was the one who got locked up, he was the one who brought Mandy back into a house where she was sexually abused again, he was the one who made her get a job at the café, he was the one who would fight with Lip on a daily basis, and he was the one who beat Lip up and triggered him into drinking again. It was all his fault. And, like Ian had, Lip seemed to forget that Mickey was a violent, angry, and messed up individual, and apologized to _him_ , forgave _him_. Why? Why the fuck would they give him another chance? Him, Mickey, some asshole from the Southside? It made no sense.

“So, I’m taking that as a no?”

Mickey scoffed and threw his tools back into the box. He ignored the stares from Lip and his other coworkers, as he walked out of the garage. He leaned up against the side of the building, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket. He grabbed his lighter, trying to light up, but it seemed to be out of juice. One, two, three, four, five times he aggressively tried to get his lighter to work, but to no avail. Mickey grunted, throwing the lighter towards the alley and shoved his cigarette back into his carton. He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was going insane. He felt an itch under his skin, and he wanted to scratch at it until he bled. It was fucking unreal. And, in this moment of uncertainty and panic for Mickey, all he could think was that he wished Ian were there with him.

“Mickey,” Lip said, coming out from the garage, “Hey, man, I’m sor-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey snapped, pushing himself off the wall, “You say sorry one more time, I’m going to bash your brains on the concrete.”

Lip took a step back, flinching a little and that made Mickey feel ten times worse.

“Sorry, sorry. Fuck,” Mickey muttered.

“No, it’s ok. I get it, you’re still angry at me.”

Mickey laughed at that. A humorless laugh, that made Lip look at him even more confused than before, “You know you’re not as smart as I thought.”

Lip crossed his arms, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“You really are a fucking idiot. How are you still trying to be nice after what I did to you at the Alibi? What, I scare you that bad?”

“No.”

“Is it because you think I’m going to do something to Ian?”

Lip shook his head, “No.”

“Then why aren’t you getting some big fancy lawyer and trying to sue me? You could easily have me thrown back in prison, and you’d never have to see me around your brother again? Why are you forgiving me?”

“Forgiving you for what? For hitting me? Mickey, I deserved that. If it were my sisters, I’d do the same thing.”

“Yeah, but you started drinking again.”

Lip looked to Mickey, as if it all just dawned on him, “Mickey,” he said carefully, “That wasn’t your fault.”

“But, I-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said again, “Not yours, not Mandy’s, not Ian’s. It was my fault, and it was only a little slip up. I got to a meeting. I took some time to reflect. I’m fine now. We’re allowed to make mistakes.”

 _‘We’re allowed to make mistakes,’_ the words played out slowly in Mickey’s mind. He sighed, “What if the mistake you made caused someone you loved to get hurt?”

Lip narrowed his eyes, as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle, “This isn’t about us, is it?”

Mickey shook his head. He stayed silent for a moment, letting the air get tense around them, before he said, “Mandy started getting raped by our father after our mom died. She was thirteen and I was fifteen. Our mom died of a heroin overdose. Cop’s said she’s been dead a while, but I was the first one home. I’d ditched school that day halfway through and decided to chill out in the living room. I didn’t even know she was home. Apparently, she was already dead. I couldn’t do anything about that. But I could have checked on her. Maybe if I were the one that found her, my brother Colin wouldn’t be as fucked up as he is. He was the one that found her. After he’d come home from work, he’d gone into my parents’ room for something, and I just started hearing him screaming for our mom to wake up. When I got to him, he was holding her in his arms. It wasn’t a surprise to me that she died. I knew my mom was a fucking user. Fuck, I’d shoot up too If I were married to my fuck head dad, but it still hurt. It was like her absence fucked everything up.

After that, I wasn’t around a lot. It was like I could still feel my mother’s ghost around, judging me, wanting to know why I didn’t save her, why I didn’t check up on her sooner, or came home sooner. It was too much, and I just couldn’t stay there every night, but when I did, I noticed small things about Mandy. I could tell something had happened, something had changed, but I didn’t stick around to find out what. Then when I got stuck in prison, I wasn’t there to protect her from her shitty ex-boyfriend, and when I brought her back home, our father was still living with us. I let it happen again, and she’d gotten fucking pregnant that time, and when I started putting it all together,” Mickey stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, and exhaling, trying to calm himself, “I wanted him dead. I was going to kill him, but the old fucker got one up on me. I hope he dies in jail. I hope he suffers.”

Mickey then looked to Lip, who was just staring back at him with an intense sadness in his eyes. He wanted to smack himself for revealing all of that to Lip. It wasn’t like he was the first person to know of his guilt. He told the same thing to Sandy, and later to Ian, but this was different. Lip wasn’t like Sandy or Ian, he had no right to know Mickey’s most vulnerable feelings, and yet here Mickey was sharing it anyway. Not only that, but he didn’t want to hear the inevitable, that was going to come out of Lip’s mouth. The, ‘It’s not your fault, Mickey,’ or, ‘You didn’t know, Mickey. Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ He knew when people said that, they meant well, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

However, Lip continued to surprise him, when he said, “You feel like it was all your fault? I understand that.”

Mickey furrowed his brow in confusion. He wasn’t expecting that.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what happened to Ian when we were teenagers, y’know? Our parents were shit, us siblings, well we were all we had. When we were kids, we looked out for each other, we protected each other. It got harder when we were older. We were all doing our own thing. When we’d get dragged to the country club, I immediate went around to hit on girls. I didn’t even notice what Ian did, or who he talked to. I noticed he’d be gone occasionally though, sometimes for the whole day, sometimes it was for the weekend. I noticed he’d come home with expensive shit. Shit I knew he wouldn’t buy for himself. I recognized that we didn’t talk like we used to, and I just ignored all of it. It wasn’t until we called up at the army base Ian was stationed at and hearing them say Ian had been discharged for over a month, that I really started to freak out.

It was hard when he came back home. He’d changed. When he finally came out to us, and he told us what he’d been through, it felt like someone had ripped my guts out. It was like all the pieces had finally fit together, and it felt like I’d abandoned him. I should have known. I should have done something sooner. He must have felt so alone. I honestly, almost fell off the wagon at that point, but I stayed sober for him. He was going through a lot during that time, and I couldn’t add to that. If anything, I at least owed him that.”

Mickey nodded, and he felt different. Talking about this with Lip felt different because he understood. Finally, Mickey had someone who understood, “How did you get over it? The guilt I mean.”

Lip shrugged, “I haven’t. I don’t think I ever will. I mean, I know in reality it wasn’t my fault. I know whose fault it is, and I don’t think at the time I could have stopped it. Fuck, maybe if I tried I could have made it worse. The guilt’s still there though, no matter how many times people want you to forget about it. I think that’s ok though to have it there, not enough to consume me, but maybe just a little bit. It’s a good reminder. I won’t ever let something like that happen again, not to Ian, not to anybody.”

Mickey nodded, still feeling like shit.

Lip noticed this, “You did what you could, Mickey. That’s all you can do. Your dad’s in prison, and that’s because of you. Mandy isn’t with her abusive ex anymore because of you. Your son has a good relationship with his father because you chose to stick around. You can’t change the past, Mickey, but your doing your best right now. You’re trying. That’s more than a lot of people would do.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Mickey didn’t want to say it. He huffed, crossing his arms. He stayed that way for a second, before saying, “We good?”

Lip grinned, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“If Mandy forgives you, then yeah,” Mickey said, but then rubbed at his bottom lip, “But, really, are we good?”

“Yeah, Mickey, we’re good.”

“Good,” he said, but then suddenly remembered his conversation with Tami. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny slip of paper, “Oh, by the way here’s this.”

“What’s this?” Lip asked, taking the piece of paper out of Mickey’s hand, and looked at it.

“Tami’s number. She came by yesterday and wanted me to give that to you.”

Lip furrowed his brow, “Even after everything with Mandy?”

“She said her and Mandy talked about it, so I guess my sister put in a good word for you. Mandy must really trust you. Tami is like one of her best friends.”

Lip smiled giddily at the little piece of paper. He put it in his pocket.

Mickey watched him carefully, and then what he said next even came as a surprise to him, “Don’t hurt her.”

Lip stared at him quizzically, “Who?”

“Tami. I meant what I said before about her being different from the other girls you’ve been with. Just,” he sighed, “just treat her right, alright?”

Lip nodded, smiling a little as he did, “Yeah, alright.”

“Good,” Mickey said, and then wondered how he got so mixed up with these Northsiders, _‘Fucking Gallaghers,’_ he thought to himself.


	13. A Place To Call Your Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone I know it's been almost a month, but i'm finally here with a new chapter. Don't expect these long waits to be a regular thing, I've just been going through a lot of stuff, nothing extreme but it's been keeping me busy. Also, I participated in gw2020 which set me back a week, but now I have returned and I have a little bit to say here, and then there will be an additional note at the end of the story. Ok, so I guess the only thing I want to say is that I'll now be answering comments. I didn't before, because I have a lot of anxiety surrounding answering people, and I know that might sound weird, trust me I know, but it's something I go back and forth with a lot. Y'know I feel guilty about not responding and I want to respond to comments, but my brain keeps telling me how i'd respond is stupid, and the whole thing is stupid honestly, but that's just how my brain works. Anyway, after trying to be consistent with answering comments on my one-shots, I think I can do it on this story too now :) Ok, that's all for now. There is, of course, chapter warnings, such as: Mentions of trauma, and mentions of forced relationships with a minor, mentions of underage pregnancy, and mentions of child molestation. None of it goes into detail, but it's there nonetheless. As always, thank you for the kind comments and the kudos, and thanks for reading!

The rest of the week went by easily, which came as a surprise to Mickey. With everything going on, Mickey was sure some kind of major catastrophe would happen before Saturday arrived. However, Mickey was proven wrong, and soon it was Saturday, and Svetlana had just been by to pick Yevgeny up for the day.

It wasn’t hard to get the Russian woman to agree to his plan. When Mickey explained to her what he wanted to do, she was all on board. She even said that it was a great idea, which was high praise coming from her.

The moment Yevgeny left; Mickey got to work. He gathered his siblings and gave them individual jobs. He told Iggy and Colin to go get a new windowpane for the room. He made Jaime and Joey go out and look for a bedframe. And he sent Sandy and Mandy to go look for a dresser. By the time everyone was out and doing their own thing, it was almost 8:30.

Mickey quickly got dressed, and then went outside to smoke a cigarette. As he sat on the steps, watching the people go by, he thought about Yevgeny and how excited he’d be once he saw his new room. Mickey really hoped he liked it.

When Ian arrived, it had been a couple minutes later.

Mickey smiled as he watched the redhead get out of the car, holding a small carboard box. He looked so cheery and ready to work. Mickey knew that Ian definitely wouldn’t feel that way once the day was over.

“Hey,” Ian said, walking up to him.

Mickey gave him a slight nod. He motioned to the box, “What’s that?”

“Oh, just some old superhero comics, and a few action figures none of us use anymore. They were just in the attic collecting dust, so Lip and I went up there and grabbed them. They’re for Yev. Think he’ll like them?”

Mickey did his best to not jump up and kiss his amazing, what? Boyfriend? Were they boyfriends? Mickey didn’t know. They never really labeled their relationship. Of course, this was because Mickey had asked they take it slow, but now it was getting hard to ignore the obvious. Mickey wanted to be with Ian exclusively. Ian probably knew that, of course, because he always seemed to be ten steps ahead of Mickey when it came to their relationship, knowing what Mickey wanted before he knew himself.

With a nod, Mickey tossed his cigarette on the ground and put it out with his foot, “I think he’ll love’m,” he said, standing up, “C’mon, we gotta lot of shit to do before Yev comes back.”

Ian nodded and followed Mickey into the house.

Mickey walked over to kitchen and grabbed some Kevlar gloves. He turned to see Ian set the small box on the kitchen counter, and then lean up against it with his arms crossed.

Ian looked around, “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Colin and Iggy are getting glass for the window, Jaime and Joey are looking for a bedframe, and Mandy and Sandy are getting a dresser.”

“What are we doing?”

“First, you’re going to help me remove the glass from the window, and then we’re going to start cleaning out the room.”

Ian grinned, “Seems easy enough.”

“Uh huh, you ever replaced a windowpane before, Northside?”

“Nope, but I’m a fast learner.”

“Whatever,” Mickey said with a smirk. Of course, Ian had never replaced a window, he had the money to pay someone to fix it. Ian probably didn’t know how to do a lot of stuff on his own, but Mickey was patient enough to help him learn. He was going to work Ian today, and it was going to be fun.

When Mickey grabbed everything he needed from the shed, he led Ian towards the storage room window. The storage room was small and wedged in next to Colin’s room and the hallway bathroom. The window was at the back of the house. It was in bad shape, other than the deterioration of the old wooden frame and the paint peeling off, which was the state of all the window frames on the house, this window also had a giant baseball sized hole in it, that had a trash bag taped over it to cover it up. Also, the screen was long gone, having been broken by one of the Milkovich siblings. No one remembered who.

“So, your brother hit a baseball through the window?”

Mickey set his tools down on the ground, “Yeah, he was fourteen.”

“Why didn’t you guys ever get it fixed?”

Mickey looked at Ian like he was an idiot.

Ian winced, realizing what he’d just said, “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Honestly, we could have fixed it. Just, dad didn’t care enough, and y’know enough time goes by and you barely even realize it’s there.”

“I guess,” Ian said, watching Mickey pull out an exacto knife, “What’s that for?”

“This,” Mickey said, and he gently tapped at the top of the window, “is for cutting through the putty. I have to cut this to get the glass out, and then I’m going to use my chisel to get all the putty off the edges. Then when Iggy and Colin get back, they’ll put in the new glass, use the new glazing points I picked up from the hardware store, hammer them in, and then they’ll use the caulking gun to caulk around the glass to hold it in. Boom, new window.”

Ian scratched the side of his head, “Yeah, I understood none of that.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Just watch me.”

“Fine,” Ian grinned, and then settled in to watch Mickey work.

It didn’t take very long. Mickey was able to get the glass out easily, throwing the pieces into a trash bag. He then chiseled at the old putty until it was all gone, and ready for the new window to go in.

When Mickey put up his tools, both he and Ian made their way into the storage room and started cleaning everything out. There were a lot of things Mickey had forgotten about, either belonging to his dad or his mom. He found a few things that were his, and some that belonged to each one of his siblings. He even found items that belonged to his grandparents. One box in particular was just filled with photographs, some a lot older than Mickey, and some that were from his childhood. He even saw some where Yevgeny was in them, though he was a baby.

They removed small stuff first, and then moved on to bigger things. One of them being an old chifforobe, that belonged to his grandmother. Mickey had no fucking idea where they’d put it. They’d probably stuff it in Jaime’s room, since his was the biggest. When Mickey and Ian moved it, the room was almost cleaned out, having a few boxes to go. One of the boxes Mickey moved had a dead mouse behind it. Which was to be expected, since there were about four fist sized holes in the wall for the plethora of mice living inside to crawl out of.

“Mickey,” Ian panicked, throwing his hand over his mouth.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Calm down,” he said, picking the stiff corpse up by its tail. He stood there with it for a second until an idea flashed in his head. He smirked, before swinging it towards Ian, “Give him a kiss, Gallagher. See if he’ll turn into a prince.”

Ian gasped and stumbled backwards, catching himself so he wouldn’t fall over. He narrowed his eyes at Mickey, who was laughing at him, “Is that what happened to you?” he quipped, his voice light and playful.

Mickey grinned, happy to know he was with a guy who could take a joke, “Sure is. Why do you think they call me Mickey?”

Ian grinned at that, but then looked at the dead mouse and his smile dropped, “Seriously though, Mickey, get rid of it.”

Mickey shrugged, and then tossed the dead mouse out the window.

“Hey!” a voice from outside shouted, causing Mickey and Ian to peer out. It was Iggy and Colin. They had both arrived back with the glass for the window, which Colin was carrying. Iggy seemed to be carrying some type of meat in a Tupperware container, picking it up by his hands and eating it.

“You tryin’ to throw shit at us?” Iggy questioned, as he and Colin made it to the window.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you baby,” Mickey said crossing his arms, “You scared of a mouse?”

“Yeah, when it’s dead and smells like shit.”

“Still better looking than your last girlfriend,” Colin joked, with no humor in his voice whatsoever. However, the brothers still laughed, and Ian chuckled too, but Colin didn’t even crack a smile. Colin never smiled.

“Ok, numbnuts,” Mickey said, getting back to business, “What do ya got?”

“Man, it took us almost an hour to find a house with the same size frame, but we got it. Mrs. DiMarco’s house, about three blocks down.”

“Great.”

Ian’s face twisted up in confusion, “Wait, you took this from someone’s house?”

“Yup,” Iggy said casually, still stuffing his face with food.

Ian’s eyes widened at that, “Why?”

Mickey shrugged, “This way it’s free.”

“It’s not free, Mickey. Just because you stole it doesn’t make it free,” Ian said, as he started to freak out.

“Eh, agree to disagree.”

“How do you even steal a window?”

“They removed it the same way we did, by cutting it out.”

“Mind telling your girlfriend to chill out?” Iggy scoffed.

“What, was that from Mrs. DiMarco’s house too?” Ian snarked, motioning to the food in Iggy’s hand.

Iggy smiled, “She might be batshit crazy, but that old broad sure knows how to make a mean brisket.”

Now, Mickey widened his eyes, “You went into the house?”

“I told him not to,” Colin sighed.

“Hey, if she didn’t want people going in and stealing her food, she shouldn’t leave the window wide open.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t with you two right now. Just, put the fucking window in and try not to break it.”

“Don’t worry, if we do, I know a place where we can get another one. Also, I think I saw some mashed potatoes in her fridge that looked promising.”

Mickey put his hands up and backed away from the situation. What the fuck was wrong with his brothers? Why was he the only one in the house that was born with braincells?

It took about another thirty minutes to move all the stuff from the storage room to the living room. By the time they finished, Mandy and Sandy had arrived with the dresser.

Sandy said they’d gotten it from a yard sale for fifteen bucks. It was a small wooden dresser with four drawers. It was old and chipped, and the drawers seemed to be loose, but Sandy assured Mickey they’d fix it and clean it up before they put it in Yevgeny’s room.

After checking back in with Iggy and Colin, Mickey then started filling in the holes in the wall. When he was finished with that, him and Ian got the paint they usually had around for touchups and started painting the wall. After painting one wall, Iggy and Colin, who were finished with the window, came in to help. By the time they finished, the room already looked a lot better.

While they waited for the paint to dry, Mickey threw out the room’s old blinds, and he took the blinds from Joey’s room, replacing it. He didn’t ask Joey beforehand, but Mickey decided that his brother would just have to get over it. An hour later, Mickey, Ian, Colin, Iggy, Sandy, and Mandy, started painting the walls again, covering it with a second coat.

After that, the only thing that really needed done, before moving furniture in, was cleaning the carpet, which Ian volunteered to do. Mickey said go for it, and then made his way to the living room to help his siblings separate and put things away.

The chifforobe did end up going in Jaime’s room, and Mickey and his siblings managed to organize and put away things fairly quickly. They left some things out, knowing they would need to buy totes for them, but other than that they were pretty much done.

Around five, Mickey joined his siblings and cousin in the living room, who were now all sitting down, looking through the box of photos. Mickey sat down on the floor, in front of the couch, and decided to look through them too. He found all the pictures with Yevgeny and set them aside. The ones that specifically had Svetlana in them, he kept in a small pile. Mickey assumed she’d want them, so he decided to put them in an envelope and hand them to her later.

A few minutes later, after going through all of Yevgeny’s baby photos, Mickey picked up a picture of him and his mother, looking at it with fondness, when Ian came into the living room.

“Finally finished in there. I had to go over the carpet like seven times, but I think it’s the cleanest room in the house now. You can see a visible brightness when compared to the hallway carpet.”

“Mmhmm,” Mickey said, not looking away from the photograph.

“What are you guys looking at?” Ian questioned, sitting next to Mandy on the floor.

“Just some old photos. There was a whole box full of them. Look,” Mandy said, handing Ian a photo, “Here’s my sixth-grade school pictures.”

Ian smiled, “Hey, you look cute with braces.”

“Hey, Colin, look at this,” Iggy grinned, shoving his elbow playfully into Colin’s shoulder.

Colin, whose expression remained neutral, glanced at the picture Iggy was holding, “Oh, yeah, our fishing trip with dad.”

Mickey took a swig of his beer and tried not to remember that trip. It had gone fine enough, if you considered being almost drowned by your drunken psychotic father ‘fine’. However, he did look over at the photo, and saw his father smiling at the camera, his arms around him and Iggy, while Colin, Jaime and Joey were next to them and they were all flipping the camera off. Mickey was about seven then.

He went back to looking at the picture in his hand. It was of him and his mother sitting on the couch. His mother had her arms around him, kissing him on the head and Mickey was smiling. He remembered that day. He was thirteen and it was Mother’s Day.

Mickey didn’t spend a lot of time with his mom when he was a teenager, and it was something Mickey wished he could have fixed. Though, he didn’t know his mother would end up overdosing when he was fifteen, he should have tried to stay out of juvie more and spent more time with her.

Mickey sighed, and then looked over at Ian, who was engrossed in all the pictures, smiling at the ones with Mickey or Mandy in them. Mickey smirked, “I’d like to see you as a kid sometime, Red.”

“You’re not missing much,” Ian said as he picked up another photo, and then looked at it with a small smile.

Sandy leaned over to also look, and a grin spread over her face, “I remember that Halloween. That’s me and Mick.”

Mickey looked over to see the picture, and he remembered that night too. He was ten and Sandy was five. His mom had put him in charge of taking Sandy trick or treating, which obviously pissed Mickey off at the time, because all he wanted to do was go egg houses with his brothers. But looking back on it, Mickey was glad about the time he’d gotten to spend with Sandy. He always preferred hanging out with his little cousin, despite the age difference.

He smiled as he examined the photo over Ian’s shoulder. He was big into Scarface at the time, so he had a homemade costume, which was just an old suit he’d worn to his uncle’s wedding, and his dad let him borrow one of his cigars. He also had a toy water gun he’d stolen from Walmart. Though instead of water, he filled it with root beer, just in case he got thirsty. He’d wanted to use his actual gun he’d gotten for his birthday that year for his costume, but his mom wouldn’t allow it. He looked to the young version of Sandy, in her makeshift Wonder Woman costume. They were both standing in front of the kitchen door. Mickey’s mom could be seen taking the photo in the reflection of the window.

Ian flipped the picture over, and Mickey read, _‘Mikhailo + Sandy – October 31, 2004.’_ It was his mother’s handwriting.

Ian furrowed his brow, “Who’s Mikhailo?”

Mickey groaned, while his siblings laughed. This was why he always used Mickey. Ian didn’t even say it right. He pronounced it like piccolo.

“Hey, shithead, the ‘ai’ makes a long ‘a’ sound.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Mandy said, still giggling.

“Oh, fuck off. No one even calls me that anymore.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, and then looked to Ian, “Mikhailo is Mickey’s first name,” she explained.

“Yep,” Sandy confirmed, “Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich.”

“Mikhailo, huh?” Ian smirked, “Sounds sexy.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh, “It’s Ukrainian. My mom picked it out, but she was really the only one to call me that, even though it’s my legal name. Everyone else called me Mickey, it was just easier that way, especially in school. Roll call was always a pain in the ass. Teachers were too lazy to sound out my fucking name, like I was burdening them. Like didn’t they get a degree in reading and shit? They do it with Yev too. One time a teacher asked me if there was something else they could call him, so it would be easier, and I told her to go fuck herself. It’s not like it’s hard to pronounce. They’re the teacher, they should learn that shit. It really lowers a kid’s self-esteem when people don’t value you enough to learn your fucking name.”

Ian rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I guess I had it easy being named Ian.”

“Sure did, with your three letter havin’ ass.”

“So, you’re Ukrainian?” Ian asked, changing the subject.

“I’m an American. I was born here. I have citizenship here. But yeah, technically I’m Ukrainian-American.”

“Dad or mom’s side?”

“Both, actually.”

“So, are all of your names shortened Ukrainian names, or just Mickey?”

“Just Mickey,” Colin said.

“Yeah, my pops wanted us to have American names, but my mother, her and her family actually moved to the states when she was eleven, so she was closer to her roots than my pops. She wanted us to have authentic Ukrainian names, but my dad was a fucking prick about it and kept her from doing it.”

“How’d you end up with your name then?”

“I was the only one lucky to be born while my dad was in jail, so my mom got to pick the name. Pops wasn’t too thrilled when he came home, probably beat the shit outta her.”

“Yeah,” Colin said, as if to confirm Mickey’s assumption. He sounded sad and distant.

Mickey noticed that Ian had tensed up. Mickey had told him how his dad would hit him and his siblings, but he’d never mentioned his mother. It probably didn’t come as a surprise, but that didn’t mean Ian couldn’t be disturbed by the revelation. Mickey pressed on, however, “It wasn’t like he hated where we came from, but he’s always been super fuckin’ patriotic for America. My great grandpa came to America around 1911. He moved to Chicago to work in the foundry and would save money to send to his pregnant wife back in Ukraine. Eventually, he had enough money to bring his wife and kid over. They ended up having like seven more, my grandpa being the youngest. He and my grandma went on to have five kids, my dad being the second oldest. She was a mean, cold bitch, my grandma. That’s probably why pops is so fucked up. Well, that and my grandfather was a fucking nightmare. They were both super religious, American obsessed, racist, nutjobs. Anyway, dad was raised as patriotic as they come, and my mom wasn’t. She didn’t even want to move to the states.”

“Mickey’s our resident family tree expert. He’s the one that knows all about Ukraine,” Iggy explained, “None of us really give a shit about where we’re from, but he’s got some kinda fetish for it.”

“No, I don’t,” Mickey huffed. He looked to Ian, “I learned all this shit from my great uncle, the one that was born before he moved to America. Dude had a shit ton of stories because he lived in Ukraine until he was eight. He also lived till he was ninety-two, so I remember him pretty well from family reunions. That, and my mom would talk about Ukraine a lot.”

Ian glanced down at the photo that was still clutched in Mickey’s hand, “That her?”

“Yeah, that’s her. Lera Milkovich.”

“She’s beautiful,” Ian said, examining the picture closer, “Wow, she really does look like Mandy.”

“Yeah, basically twins.”

Ian squinted, focusing on the photo even harder, he then moved back and shook his head, “Nah, her eye shape is different,” he looked to Mickey, “You have her eyes.”

Mickey couldn’t help but blush a little. No one had ever said he resembled his mom. People always said he was the one who looked the most like his father. He cleared his throat, “Whatever,” he mumbled, and tossed the picture down on the pile.

Ian gave Mickey a knowing smile. He seemed to understand now, that when Mickey said ‘whatever’ like that, he actually meant ‘thank you for the compliment, but I can’t properly find the right way to express my emotions right now, so whatever’.

Mickey rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed he couldn’t pull the wool over Ian’s eyes anymore.

Ian then looked back down at the pile of photographs, eyes roaming over the still framed memories, as if they were the puzzle pieces to Mickey’s life and he was trying to piece them together. He finally settled on one and picked it up. He looked at the picture, before saying, “Is this your mom with one of her siblings?”

Mickey looked over at the picture of his mom holding a baby, “Nah, that’s Colin, I think?” he plucked the photo out of Ian’s hand and turned it over to read, _‘Colin’s first birthday – 1991’_ , “Yeah, see?”

“Shit, she looks really young here.”

“That’s cus’ she’s fourteen,” Colin said, but his brow furrowed when he saw Ian’s reaction, “Is that a problem?”

Ian’s eyes widened, “No. I mean, yeah a thirteen-year-old shouldn’t be having kids, but, y’know, I’m not gonna judge. My sister actually had her daughter at fifteen, so…”

“Ian, it’s fine,” Mickey said, and then glared at his brother.

“It must have been really hard,” Ian said, “Your parents being thirteen when they started having kids.”

That’s when the room went silent. Mickey watched as Ian looked around at each of them, probably wondering what he said this time to make everyone upset. When his eyes landed on Mickey, Mickey had to look away when he said, “Mom was thirteen.”

Ian blinked at him, slowly seeming to understand what he was implying, “How old was your dad?”

Mickey paused, wondering if he should relay this information to Ian. It was something none of them talked about.

“He, uh, he…” Mickey was at a loss for words.

“He was thirty,” Mandy said, seeming to have more guts than Mickey in the current situation.

Mickey looked to Ian, to see the other boy’s face go through a wide range of emotion. First it was shock, then it was disgust, and then it was pity.

The room stayed silent until the front door opened to reveal Jaime and Joey, pulling in a metal bedframe, “Got the frame,” Jaime said, “We’re gonna take it out back and clean it.”

“I’ll help,” Colin said quickly, getting up to follow his brothers and Iggy wasn’t far behind.

Mandy bit her lip, “I guess me and Sandy will go fix up that dresser,” she said, before getting up and motioning to Sandy to follow her. They both then walked into the kitchen, leaving Ian and Mickey alone on the living room floor.

Mickey didn’t say anything for a while, and neither did Ian. It made Mickey’s stomach twist because he knew it was a fucked-up thing to hear. Finally, Mickey decided to break the silence, “Look, I should probably get to the store. I gotta get the mattress and stuff.”

Ian nodded, not really looking at Mickey, “Yeah, ok.”

“Is there anything you need while I’m out?”

Ian shook his head, but then said, “Actually, you can do something for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Let me buy Yevgeny’s mattress and his box spring. I know you don’t gotta lot of money, so I want to lessen the burden. Go buy some nice superhero sheets, and some photo albums to put your pictures in. Buy a new lightbulb for the room. Y’know, that kinda stuff.”

Mickey nodded, not really in the position to argue. Usually, he’d fight Ian on wanting to pay, but now, Mickey didn’t really see why it mattered anymore. “Ok,” he said, and then grabbed his keys off the coffee table.

Mickey took Sandy with him because he needed help loading and unloading the mattress and spring on and off the truck. He would have asked Ian to come along, but ever since he found out about his parents, Ian was acting weird. Mickey thought it was best to just give him some space.

When they arrived at Walmart, he already knew what he needed and where to go, pushing the cart, while Sandy casually hung off the end of it.

“You know this is making it harder to steer, right?”

“And? You’re strong, right? There’s no way you can’t push me.”

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, trying not to make a scene. He just wanted the day to be over already. He wanted to sleep and forget that Ian ever saw that picture. That he ever asked that question about his parents. All Mickey wanted to do was forget.

He stopped the cart next to the totes, “Here we’ll grab some of these. Get off and help.”

“Fine,” Sandy said, helping Mickey put totes in the cart.

After that, Mickey then went to pick out the mattress and the box spring, while Sandy went to grab the photo albums and lightbulbs. After that, Mickey grabbed Spider-Man bedsheets, and pillows, along with some posters to make Yevgeny’s room homier. He then met up with Sandy at check out, with all the stuff they needed to finish Yevgeny’s room.

On the ride home it was quiet. Mickey kept his eyes on the road, only occasionally looking at the backseat, where the bag of bare photo albums sat. His mind kept wondering back to Ian, and how he looked when he realized the age difference between his parents. He couldn’t stop thinking of the expression on his face, the hurt and discomfort. The disgust.

Mickey knew the relationship between his parents was very wrong and unnatural, and not in the way his father thought Mickey’s sexuality was wrong and unnatural, but in a way that was very harmful to his mother. It was illegal, but everyone kept their mouths shut. His father, his grandparents, people in the neighborhood. They pretended not to notice what was glaring them in the face. No one seemed to care when his mother suddenly ended up pregnant just shy of her thirteenth birthday, and then again a year later with twins from the older brother of the father of her first child, and then again two years after that. She was seventeen by the time she had Mickey and nineteen with Mandy, her last child, and by that time she’d married Mickey’s father.

When they were young, they saw nothing wrong with it. Their mom was always their mom, and their dad was their dad. Yet, some of the first memories Mickey had, were of people trying to nose their way into his family’s business. Mickey realized now that they were trying to get her out. Hindsight was always twenty twenty, he guessed. Though some tried to help, like concerned friends and family members, others weren’t as kind.

Mickey remembered one specific time at the grocery store when he was six. His mother had brought all six kids along, and they were just as horrific as anyone would expect a gaggle of Milkovich kids would be. Racing each other up and down the aisles, stealing snacks. Mickey in particular would shove candy in his pockets. Mandy was the only one who seemed to stay next to their mom, holding on to her shirt, while their mother tried to look for something cheap for dinner. When they went back out to the car, they were shocked to see someone had spray painted something on the driver’s side door. Mickey didn’t know what it said, he couldn’t read yet, but Colin told him later that is said whore, and Mickey didn’t understand, so Colin explained. It made Mickey’s blood boil more than anything that people talked about his mom that way, but he couldn’t really do anything about it, except kick the asses of people he saw talking shit, but in that moment he couldn’t do anything, so he watched out the window at his mother and brothers trying to frantically wash off all the paint from the car before Terry got home from the bar.

Social workers were the worst, especially the ones that would blame his mom for why they were getting taken away. As Mickey got older, he realized that it was his father’s fault more than anything, forcing someone so young to practically take care of six kids by themselves. She was a child raising children, and the state didn’t seem to care, since she was over eighteen the first time they were called. Though the foster care system couldn’t hold them long, with the Milkovich siblings either running away and back home to their parents, or their parents getting custody of them again. Either way, it wasn’t unusual for someone to see a Milkovich kid sleeping on the L or in the dark alleyways of Chicago, or maybe ever a shelter. They were dirty young vagabonds, children of the street. Yet, sooner or later they always found themselves back home, where they belonged. It might have been worse, but it was their home. And Mickey didn’t blame Ian for being weirded out, or not understanding. It’s a life Mickey wished he never had lived. That’s why it was so important to him to make sure his son’s life was better. At least he was trying.

Sandy nudged Mickey with her elbow, bringing Mickey back to the present, “Hey, you good?”

“Hm? Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Liar,” Sandy said, “You worried we spent too much of Ian’s money?”

Mickey shook his head.

“You worried Yev won’t like his room?”

Mickey shook his head again.

“Then what is it?”

Mickey sighed. He guessed if he were going to share his insecurities and fears with anyone it’d be Sandy, “Did you see Ian’s face when we told him how young my mom was compared to my dad?”

“Oh,” Sandy said slowly, seeming to understand now, “I see.”

“I don’t blame him for being freaked out. It was fucked up.”

“I know.”

“Guess pops has always been a fucking pedo,” Mickey stopped short, and then looked at Sandy, “Hey, he never did anything to you, did he?”

Sandy shook her head, “Pretty sure if he did, my mom would have fucking killed him.”

Mickey nodded. His aunt was probably one of the only people in the world that could take down his dad, and she hated him as much as anyone else.

“He’s not going to judge you for that,” Sandy said, causing Mickey to furrow his brow in confusion.

“Who?”

“Ian. What your dad did, who he is. Ian doesn’t give a shit about any of that because that isn’t you. You’re not your dad, Mickey. Ian knows that, and everyone else knows it to. Stop acting like your doomed to repeat his mistakes.”

“It isn’t that. I just don’t want him to get so weirded out, he up and fucking leaves. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”

Sandy rolled her eyes, “Mickey, how many times did you reject him before you guys actually got together? He came back to you every time. I promise you, that guy doesn’t scare easy.”

Mickey’s lips twitched up into a smile, “He is a pretty tough guy.”

“Ugh, here come the lovesick eyes. Hey, if you’re gonna start drooling, roll down the window,” she teased, as the turned on their street.

“Fuck off,” Mickey laughed, but then stopped when he saw something in the street. It was Mrs. DiMarco in her usual robe and slippers, ranting and raving, while her son, Manny, was trying to coax her back into the house.

“Oh, Jesus. What’s her deal this time?” Sandy groaned.

Mickey pulled up next to them and rolled down the window.

“They’re coming! The government is coming and stealing my food! You’re all blind if you don’t see it!” The old woman squawked, waving her arms.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Mickey questioned.

Manny, who recently moved in with his mother as her mental health started deteriorating, walked up to the truck window, “Hey, Milkovich,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, looking embarrassed.

“What’s up with your mom?”

“Oh, someone robbed the house this morning while we were out. Surprisingly, they didn’t take anything of value, but now she’s convinced that the feds are after her. I’ve been trying to get her back in the house for about fifteen minutes now.”

Sandy raised an eyebrow, “What’d they steal?”

Manny scratched his head, “Y’know it was the weirdest thing. They didn’t break the window but cut it out. I think they took the glass with them. Also, last night’s brisket is gone. That’s it though. People will steal anything these days I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mickey said a little too quickly, “Well, gotta get home and get started on dinner. See ya, Manny,” he said, rolling up the window, and then driving away. Mickey didn’t say anything for a few seconds, only staring straight ahead.

“Mickey,” Sandy said, breaking the tense silence.

“Yup?”

“Where did you say Iggy and Colin got that glass from?”

“Goddamn Iggy,” Mickey muttered, as he parked the car.

When Mickey and Sandy walked into the house, he noticed the pictures were put back in the box and setting on the couch. Mickey set his stuff on the floor and looked around for Ian.

When he didn’t see him in the kitchen, Mickey panicked a bit, before he calmed himself down. His brain wanted to say that Ian had left, but obviously he didn’t, because his car was still parked out front. Then his brain wondered if Ian was avoiding him. Mickey didn’t dwell on that thought for long when the back door opened to reveal Mandy.

“Hey,” Mickey said, “Where’s Ian?”

“Should be in your room. I’ve been helping him clean it.”

“What? Why?”

Mandy rolled her eyes, “Because it was fucking gross. And Ian wanted something to do while you were at the store.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, and then turned around to see that his ‘Stay the Fuck Out’ sign, was taken off his door. “Hey what the fuck? What happened to my sign?”

“I made Ian throw it away.”

Mickey looked at his sister incredulously, “Why?”

“Jesus Christ, Mick. You’re almost twenty-five years old. You don’t need that edgy teenage shit taped to your door,” Mandy said, passing him to get to her room.

“That doesn’t mean you can just throw it away,” he said, but Mandy ignored him, “Yeah yeah, you just walk away, Mandy,” he called out, “Just wait, bitch, I’m gonna throw out a bunch of your old shit.”

Mandy just flipped her brother off, and then went into her room.

Mickey sighed in aggravation, before going into his room. The first thing he was met with was Ian, tying up a trash bag, presumably filled with trash from his room. “The fuck are you doin’ in here?”

Ian looked up at him and smiled, “You like it? I cleaned your room.”

Mickey looked around at the room, seeing Ian had removed the sheets from his bed, and that his dirty clothes and beer cans were picked up.

“Mandy helped, but we got everything picked up. Your sheets and clothes are drying. Also, Yev’s dirty clothes are in the wash. I also cleaned your bathroom, and I vacuumed.”

Mickey blushed a bit, feeling like an idiot. Of course, Ian wouldn’t leave, why would he think that? He felt terrible now, not like he didn’t already.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ian questioned, probably noticing Mickey’s sudden change in mood, “Do you not like it?”

Mickey shook his head, “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s kinda hard to explain.”

“Oh,” Ian said, seeming to understand what he needed to do. Ian then went over to sit on the bed. He looked up at Mickey and patted the spot next to him.

Mickey rolled his eyes, and then made his way over to Ian. He sat down, not meeting Ian’s eye. He was new to all this ‘feelings’ shit and talking things out wasn’t really something that was ever prominent in the Milkovich house. But despite that, he always tried for Ian. That was why it took them so long to get together in the first place, Mickey, and his lack of communication.

When Mickey felt Ian take his hand, he startled a bit. Affection was another rare thing, courtesy of how he grew up. He finally looked to Ian, seeing nothing but patience and compassion in the other boy’s eyes. He sighed, “Uh, I guess, uh, I’ve had something on my mind.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Yeah?”

“Those pictures, the ones we were looking at today. Look, man, you know I’ve had a fucked-up life. I was always honest about that. But my parents, and my dad’s relationship with my mom, it was really fucked up. I know it was fucked up. They were our parents though, and that’s how I’ve always known them. Sometimes it’s hard to think of them as anything else.”

“I know that, Mickey.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “But when I told you, you looked so grossed out.”

“Well, yeah, because I was. That isn’t you fault though.”

“So, you don’t, I don’t know, think less of me?”

Ian widened his eyes, “No. What made you think that?”

Mickey shrugged, “Just how you acted when I told you about my parents. People always talked shit about it when I was a kid. Just another fuckin’ reason for people to look down on me, and it wasn’t even my fault. I don’t even know my grandparents on my mom’s side, cus’ they think me, and my siblings ruined her life. Y’know they wouldn’t even come to the funeral because we were there. I mean, I can understand hating Terry, but I never asked to be born into that situation. And then when you found out, I freaked. I saw it in your eyes, man. I’ve seen that look my entire life. I was afraid you’d be gone when I got back, or I don’t know, maybe even break up with me. I’m a fuckin’ idiot though, right? Shoulda givin’ you more credit than that.”

“Mickey,” Ian said gently, “Nothing your father did was your fault. It was all him, and you need to try and stop taking the blame for him. And, you’re right, I was really grossed out when you told me, but it had nothing to do with you. Mickey, I know what it’s like to be preyed on by people a lot older than me. I’ve dealt with it most of my teenage life. That’s why I probably seemed so distant.”

“Oh,” Mickey said, feeling like an idiot again, for not realizing that could have triggered Ian. Mickey felt tears well up in his eyes. This was stupid. How he felt was stupid. Crying in front of Ian was stupid, and he felt weak for doing it.

Ian was worried then, “Mickey?”

“Sorry. Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with palms of his hands.

“It’s ok, Mickey.”

“No, it isn’t ok. My whole life, I was made to feel like I was wrong, that it was my fault, that it was my brothers and sister’s fault, because my dad decided to groom and molest a twelve-year-old. Now, I’m fucking stuck here with this disgusting thing attached to my name, and everyone around me is just waiting for me to mess up. They’re expecting me to turn out like him. But I’m not my fucking dad, ok? I thought I wanted to be when I was a kid, but I didn’t understand, and by the time I understood the real relationship of my parents, my mom was dead. My mom was dead, and people blamed me, because I was born. And now I’m here, trying to be a better person, but everything my father’s done always comes back to bite me in the ass. I’ve been dealing with it my whole life, and I just assumed you’d blame me too. I’m sorry.”

Ian didn’t ask permission, before he pulled Mickey into a hug.

Mickey accepted, nuzzling his face into the crook of Ian’s neck. He could feel the tears cascading down his face now, as he held Ian tighter. It felt so good to finally talk about it with someone.

“You want to move out of your father’s shadow, but people already have this premade conception of you, because you remind them of him. Believe me, Mickey, I know exactly how that feels. It’s hard, I know. I’ll never turn my back on you though, not for that.”

Mickey sniffed, and then pulled back to look Ian in the eyes, “Y’know, Yev wasn’t exactly conceived out of love. Every time I had sex with Svet, I wanted to throw up afterwards. But when I found out she was pregnant, and the kid was mine, I didn’t want to repeat what happened to me, with him. That’s why I make sure he knows I love him, and that his mom loves him, and that he’s only made our lives better by being in them. I don’t want him to get treated like I was.”

“You’re a good dad, Mickey. And thank you for opening up to me.”

Mickey nodded, before saying, “Thank you, for listening.”

Ian cupped Mickey’s jaw, and then leaned into kiss him.

Mickey sighed softly into the kiss, feeling all the insecurities he had toward Ian before, melt away.

Ian pulled back, “Let’s go get the rest of Yev’s room done,” he said, rubbing his thumb alongside Mickey’s jaw.

Mickey nodded, and then got up as Ian followed suit, and they both walked out of the room together.

It didn’t take long to finish everything up. The wall was already dry, and the carpet was getting there. Ian helped Mickey drag the mattress and box spring in, while Iggy and Jaime carried the frame. When the bed was all set up, Mickey and Ian then carried in the dresser, setting it next to the bed. Mickey then brought in Yevgeny’s new bedspread and pillows, and started making the bed, while Ian screwed in the new lightbulb, and hung up posters. Finally, they folded Yevgeny’s clothes and put them in the top three drawers, leaving the bottom one as a makeshift toy chest, putting Ian’s action figures, along with the toys Yevgeny already had at the house.

When they were finished, Ian and Mickey stood back to admire their handywork. Mickey let out a light chuckle, “Can’t believe we actually pulled this off.”

Ian grinned at him, “Yeah, it looks like an actual room now.”

“Yev’s gonna be siked when he sees it.”

“It’s all thanks to you, and your siblings. Oh, and Sandy.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him, “Bullshit, you helped just as much as everyone else did.”

“I was just the guy who bought some stuff and helped clean. You guys really pulled together and made this into something special.”

“Y’know you’re more than that, right? You’re not just the money guy, Ian. You mean a lot to Yev, and to Mandy… and to me.”

Ian smirked, “Oh, yeah? I mean a lot to you?”

“Duh, idiot.”

“Well, just wait till I get you alone,” Ian said, and then leaned in to whisper in Mickey’s ear, “Then I get to show you how much you mean to _me_.”

Mickey shivered, before nudging Ian lightly with his elbow, “Keep it in you pants, Red. Yevgeny will be home any minute.”

“Fine,” Ian sighed, but he was still looking at Mickey with adoration, “But on a serious not, Mickey. You mean a lot to me too.”

Mickey smiled at him, “I fuckin’ better.”

With a laugh, Ian turned around to exit the room, and Mickey followed him, shutting off the light and the door behind him.

When Yevgeny arrived, it was almost nine o’clock.

Mandy had ordered everybody pizza, and everyone was sitting in the living room, watching a movie, when the door swung open, and Yevgeny rushed inside with Svetlana right behind him.

“Dad!” Yevgeny called out excitedly, his hands full of stuff, “Look what I got from the zoo!”

Mickey, who had his arms wrapped around Ian’s waist, curled up next to him, untangled himself to greet his son, “Hey, man. Looks like you had fun today.”

Yevgeny nodded, as he started to speak rapidly, “We went to the zoo and mommy bought me this stuff! And then we went to see Spider-Man: Far from Home, and we sat in the very front and I got to pick out some candy and a drink. And then we went to Patsy’s and I gotta burger, and a milkshake, and fries, and I dipped my fries in my milkshake like Ian taught me,” Yevgeny then noticed Ian sitting next to Mickey, and stopped his story to briefly say, “Hi, Ian! And then- and then I got some pie, and then we drove here, and now I’m home.”

“Wow,” Mickey smiled, and then looked to Svetlana, “That sounds fun, and expensive.”

“I have rainy day fund,” Svetlana shrugged.

“It didn’t rain, but we still used the money anyway,” Yevgeny said, before looking to Ian, “When did you get here, Ian?”

“Oh, I’ve been here most of the day,” Ian said, and then got off the couch, “Actually, I also came over to drop these off.”

Yevgeny watched curiously as Ian picked up a small box off the kitchen counter, “What is it?”

“Well, my brother and I were cleaning out our attic and we found these old superhero comics,” Ian grinned, showing the box to Yevgeny, “They’re still in great shape, but we don’t read them anymore. I was wondering if you wanted them?”

Yevgeny gasped as his eyes lit up, “Yes yes yes!”

“Here,” Ian said, taking Yevgeny’s stuffed plushies he’d gotten from the zoo, and putting them in the box, before handing them to Yevgeny, “Promise me you’ll take care of these?”

“I promise!” he beamed, and then turned to his mom, “Mommy, look!”

“I see,” she said with a warm smile.

“Why don’t you go put your new stuff in the room, Yev,” Mickey said, trying not to smile.

Yevgeny nodded, and then made his way to Mickey’s room.

“No, man,” Mickey called out, “Not my room.”

Yevgeny looked back at Mickey quizzically for a moment, before going over to Mandy’s room and pointing at it.

“No, not my room, Yev,” Mandy laughed.

Yevgeny then moved to Joey’s room and pointed.

“Not mine either,” Joey said.

Yevgeny then turned and pointed to Jaime’s room, but then moved on when Jaime shook his head. He then made it to Colin’s room and pointed at it.

“Getting warmer,” Colin said.

Yevgeny then finally pointed at the storage room, looking back at his family with confusion.

“Yeah, that one, Yev,” Mickey said.

“The room with all the old stuff? Why there?”

Mickey couldn’t help it now, he was grinning ear to ear, “Cus’ that’s your room. Where else would you put it?”

Yevgeny’s eyes widened, “You want me to sleep in the closet?” his voice got sadder, “What did I do?”

“Jesus, Yevgeny,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “Just open the door.”

Yevgeny followed his father’s instructions and opened the door. Yevgeny then furrowed his brow, before turning on the light. It seemed to take a moment for the young boy to register what he was looking at, but when he did, his jaw dropped. He turned back to his family, who were smiling at him. Except, of course, Colin, though he had fondness in his eyes. Yevgeny pointed at the room, “What is it?”

“It’s your new room, Yev,” Mickey said, “We had your mom take you out for the day, so we could fix it up and surprise you. Everyone helped out.”

“All mine?” Yevgeny asked softly.

Mickey gave his son an affectionate smile, “All yours, little man.”

Yevgeny grinned, setting down the box and running up to Mickey, who scooped him up into a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Yevvy,” Mickey laughed, setting his son back down.

Yevgeny ran back to the room, looking at it again. He then ran back and hugged his aunts and his uncles, thanking all of them. He then ran over to Ian and hugged him too.

“Mommy!” he cried out, hugging her leg, “I got my own room!”

“I know! Your father did a good job,” she said, giving Mickey a small smirk.

“Wait! I gotta good idea!” he said, running to the kitchen.

“You did good,” Ian said to Mickey, kissing him on the cheek.

Mickey blushed, while Svetlana raised an eyebrow.

“So, you are orange boy, hmm?”

Ian laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah, I guess we haven’t really officially met,” he stuck his hand out, “I’m Ian.”

Svetlana did not shake Ian’s hand. Instead, she crossed her arms and said, “My son likes you. He says good things about you. Let’s keep it this way.”

Ian nodded and dropped his hand, “Yeah, of course. Yev is a great kid.”

“Yes, he is. He is good child, so happy and full of light,” Svetlana said, before getting close to Ian, “If this changes, and my Yevgeny becomes unhappy, and I find out you’re the cause, I will kill you. I will stab you in heart with ice pick and saw your head off with my carving knife. I will then turn your skull into decorative bowl for assorted nuts and put it on my coffee table. Are we clear?”

Ian’s eyes widened, “Yes, ma’am. Crystal.”

Svetlana smirked, turning to Mickey, “I like this one.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “He’s only being nice to you because you scare the shit out of everyone,” he said, before pulling the envelope with Yevgeny’s photos out of his back pocket, “Here.”

“What is this?”

“Just open it.”

Svetlana opened the envelope and looked at the pictures inside. She smiled, “Oh, my. He was so small back then,” she looked up at Mickey, “Thank you.”

Mickey shrugged, “They’re yours anyway.”

Svetlana put the envelope in her pocket when Yevgeny rushed back into the room.

“Look,” he said, holding up a piece of paper with tape on it, “It’s just like dad’s.”

Mickey looked at the paper, which said ‘Yevgeny’s room’, with the Y’s written backwards, and the word ‘room’, spelled like, ‘rume’. Mickey smirked, “That looks great, man.”

Yevgeny smiled, and then looked back at Mickey’s room to see his dad’s sign was gone. He looked back to his dad, “Where did your sign go, daddy?”

Mickey groaned, “Your aunt Mandy made Ian throw it out.”

“Why?”

“Guess I’m a little too old to have signs like that on my door,” he said, picking Yevgeny up, “Here, let’s go hang up yours.” Mickey then took Yevgeny over to the door of his new room and watched as Yevgeny stuck it on.

“I did it!” he grinned, as Mickey put him down. Yevgeny then stepped into the room to look around. His smile was wide when he sat on his new bed, “Wow,” he said, running his hand over the Spider-Man bedsheets.

Ian leaned against the wall, “Y’know your dad bought you the bedsheet and posters?”

Yevgeny nodded, as if he already knew that were true, “That makes sense. Dad knows what I like.”

Mickey smiled, “Course I do, Yev.”

“Mom!” Yevgeny called out, causing Ian and Mickey to turn and see Svetlana standing at the door, “Look at my new room!”

“Wow, you really made this room not look like shit,” Svetlana said in low voice, so only Mickey could hear.

“No kidding. It took us all day to do it.”

“Mom?”

Svetlana looked to her son and smiled, “I see. It is very good.”

“Do I gotta go home with you tonight?”

Mickey looked to Svetlana. Technically, it would be easier if Yevgeny went home with Svetlana tonight, since he’d be going back over there tomorrow, since it would be Sunday.

Svetlana shook her head, “If you want to stay the night, you can.”

“Ok,” Yevgeny said softly, “Does that make you sad?”

Svetlana shook her head again, and then walked over to her son, kissing him on the head, “No. I am happy you told me what you wanted, and were honest. You are older now. You must make your own decisions. Though, I must go now. I have work soon.”

“Ok, mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Svetlana whispered into the tuffs of Yevgeny’s hair. She then moved back and turned around to walk out the door, but not before she stopped by Mickey to say, “It is good he stays here tonight. Yvon will be happy for the night off, and I can work longer than usual. I will be back to pick him up around noon.”

“Sure,” Mickey said, watching as Svetlana walked out into the hallway, and then out the front door. Mickey picked up the box of comics and plushies that were still on the floor and set it on top of the dresser. He then turned to Yevgeny, “You want these stuffed animals on your bed?”

Yevgeny nodded excitedly, while Mickey grabbed the plushies and tossed them on the bed.

“Look, Yev,” Ian said, going over to the dresser, “All your clothes are in these three drawers, and,” Ian pulled out the bottom drawer, “This one has your toys in it.”

Yevgeny furrowed his brow and hopped off the bed, “Some of these aren’t mine.”

“I brought over some old toys too, I hope that’s ok?”

Yevgeny reached into the drawer and picked one of them up, “Mine?”

“Yeah, of course, Yev.”

Yevgeny smiled at the toy, before he turned around and hugged Ian. He then went over and hugged his dad again, “Thank you, dad. I love you.”

Mickey hugged Yevgeny back, holding onto him tight, “I love you too, Yev.”

“Now, you gotta get out.”

Mickey looked down at his son with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

“I need you out, please,” Yevgeny said, pushing at his dad a little.

Mickey snorted out a laugh, “You wanna spend some time alone in your new room, huh?”

Yevgeny nodded, trying to push his dad out.

“Ok, ok, we’re going, Yev,” Ian laughed, walking out the door.

Mickey, however, walked very slowly to the door, dragging his feet on purpose.

“C’mon, dad,” Yevgeny grunted, trying to push his father faster out the door.

“I can’t walk any faster, Yev,” Mickey lied.

“Not true!”

“Yeah, it is,” Mickey smirked, as Yevgeny finally got him out the door.

Yevgeny then shut the door hard behind him, before yelling out, “I didn’t mean to slam the door! I love you both!”

Mickey and Ian snickered as they walked out to the living room, to see everyone had gone back to watching the movie. “Hey, I’m gonna put these up,” Mickey said, grabbing the box of photographs, while his siblings and cousin ignored him, eyes still on the screen. He carried the box along with the bag of photo albums and laid them out on his bed. For the next hour or so, Mickey let Ian help him put the pictures in albums. Mickey even bought a baby blue photo album, so he could put Yevgeny’s pictures in it, like a baby book.

“Hey,” Ian said, as he picked up the same picture from earlier, the one of his mother holding up Colin as a baby, “We should put one of these albums aside and fill it with all the pictures of Colin and your mom. I know he was close with her, and I think he might appreciate it.”

Mickey gave Ian a smile, astounded by how kind and thoughtful he was. “Yeah,” he said, picking up one of the empty photo albums, “That sounds like a good idea.”

After everything was sorted and put up, Yevgeny’s special baby book was set aside in the bottom drawer of Mickey’s nightstand. Mickey then grabbed Colin’s photo album, and him and Ian both walked back into the living room.

Unsurprised to Mickey, everyone was gone. Mickey assumed they either went out to the bar or went to sleep. He was about to say fuck it, and just give it to Colin in the morning, when Colin came in through the back door. “Hey,” Mickey said, handing the photo album to his brother, “Here.”

Colin raised an eyebrow, “What’s this?”

“It’s a photo album, man. It’s all the pictures of you and mom.”

Colin blinked in surprise, as he took the photo album for Mickey’s hand, “Why?”

“I don’t know, man. Thought you’d like it. It was Ian’s idea anyway.”

Colin nodded slowly, before looking up at Ian and Mickey, “Thanks,” he said, before walking past them and going to his room.

“Wow,” Mickey said in surprise, “I haven’t seen him that emotional in a long time.”

Ian furrowed his brow in confusion, “That was him being emotional?”

Mickey nodded, and then said, “C’mon, let’s get Yevgeny to bed. I’m fuckin’ tired, man.”

“Y’know, he won’t want to stop playing with his toys to go to bed.”

Mickey scoffed, “Tough shit, man. It’s almost twelve,” and with that, he started towards Yevgeny’s room, with Ian close behind.

After putting a very defiant Yevgeny to bed, Mickey and Ian made their way to Mickey’s recently cleaned room.

Mickey shut the door and immediately stripped down to his boxers, ready to pass the fuck out. It had been a very long day, and everything was sore. However, as soon as he got into bed, Ian was on top of him, naked and hard. “What the fuck?” Mickey gasped, feeling Ian suck on his earlobe and rut up against him.

“Told you I’d show you how much you meant to me, when we finally got a moment alone. God, Mick, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered hotly in Mickey’s ear, “You’re such a good guy. Doing all this for your kid. Giving your brother that photo album. Letting me clean your room for you. So good, baby.”

There he goes with that fucking pet name again, fucking soft bitch. Mickey would yell at him if he weren’t extremely turned on right now. Turned on, but also very amused. The fact Ian was getting off on him doing simple shit, made Mickey want to laugh. And he did laugh, but that laugh soon turned into a moan, when Ian shoved his tongue in Mickey’s ear, “Oh, fuck, Ian,” he groaned out, bucking up into his lover.

Ian detached himself from Mickey’s ear, “Need you so bad right now, Mickey. Please.”

Mickey appreciated Ian asking, before going any further. He must have realized Mickey was tired, and might not want to have sex, but maybe something less time consuming, like jerking each other off, but Mickey was too far gone to stop now. He pulled at his boxers, “Get these damn things off me, Gallagher. I want you to fuck me.”

Ian wasted no time puling the boxers off Mickey and discarding them on the floor. He then reached for the lube and a condom from the nightstand, placing the condom next to him, and opening the bottle of lube. “You want this?” he murmured, squeezing some lube on his finger. He then tossed the bottle aside, and brought his hand down to Mickey’s entrance, shoving two fingers inside the boy bellow him.

“Fuck,” Mickey gasped, his hands flying up to bury themselves in Ian’s hair. This wasn’t going to be slow like Ian usually wanted to do with Mickey. No, this was going to be fast and rough, and despite the ache in his muscles, Mickey wanted it that way. He’d never seen Ian so turned on.

Ian pistoned his fingered in and out, while biting along Mickey’s jaw, sucking hickeys there, and along his neck, and then down to his shoulders, just covering Mickey in purple marks.

“Ian,” he whimpered, and then mentally kicked himself for sounding so submissive, “Ian, I have to go to work Monday. Everyone’s going to see my hick-”

“I want them to see. I want them to see how much I want you,” he breathed hotly in Mickey’s ear, before biting down, and shoving the third finger in, hitting Mickey’s prostate.

Mickey felt like someone had punched the air out of him, and he started to tremble, feeling that familiar build up to an orgasm. Mickey thought he’d go to hell for how sinfully he moaned and whined when Ian attached his lips to one of his nipples. Mickey wasn’t going to last long.

Ian, seeming to also realize Mickey was close, removed his fingers. He then moved up to kiss Mickey, before pulling back and brining his hand up to rub his thumb over the dark-haired boy’s bottom lip, “Are you ready for me, Mickey?” He asked, grinning wildly when all Mickey could do was frantically nod his head.

Mickey heard the sound of Ian ripping the condom open, and the lube bottle opening, before he felt Ian all but slam into him. The noise that left Mickey’s mouth was a mix between a scream and a surprised moan, as he wrapped his legs around Ian, and held onto his hair like it was a lifeline.

Ian quickly put his hand over Mickey’s mouth, laughing, “Shh, you wanna wake Yevgeny up?”

“Well, maybe give me a warning next time, asshole,” Mickey said through clenched teeth.

“Ok,” Ian breathed, close to Mickey’s ear, “Here is your warning. I’m warning you that I’m about to fuck you so hard into the mattress, you’ll forget how to walk.”

“F-fuck,” Mickey stuttered out when Ian bit his earlobe again.

Ian wasted no time on delivering his promise. He hiked Mickey’s legs up on his shoulders and started thrusting into him fast.

Mickey felt like he couldn’t breathe. Ian was hitting his prostate with every other thrust with such force, that Mickey thought he might actually black out from pleasure. It felt so intense, that Mickey didn’t even know he was close to orgasm, until he was spilling over both his and Ian’s stomachs, “Oh, fuck,” Mickey groaned out, going limp, and letting Ian use him to finish.

“God you’re so good, Mickey. So fucking good,” Ian gritted out, “And your room is so fucking clean.”

Mickey’s brain froze then, it was like hearing a record scratch in his mind. He looked up at Ian in confusion because he thought he heard him wrong.

“Your bed is all made, and the floor is clean, and your clothes are washed, f- fuck,” Ian moaned, picking up the pace.

Yep, Ian was definitely getting off on the fact that Mickey’s room was clean. Mickey couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “What the fuck, man? This really gettin’ you off?”

“Shut the fuck up, Mickey,” Ian groaned out, clamping his hand over Mickey’s mouth. It only took a couple more thrusts before Ian threw his head back and came.

After a few seconds of post-coital bliss, Ian then pulled out, and threw away the condom.

“What the fuck was that?” Mickey question, when Ian laid down next to him.

“Mmm, what was what?”

“Oh, don’t even,” Mickey laughed, “The cleaning fetish?”

Ian grinned at his lover, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Mickey snorted, as Ian wrapped his arms around his waist, “Am I gonna have to monitor you now? You gonna bust a nut every time you iron socks, or some shit?”

“Only if they’re yours,” Ian shot back playfully.

“Whatever,” Mickey smiled, feeling himself fall into sleep. However, before he did, he nudged Ian gently with his foot.

“Hm?” Ian mumbled, sounding as if he were almost asleep too.

“I just wanna say thanks for being here for me today. Not just with helping me with Yev’s room, but for when we talked about my parents and stuff.”

“No problem, Mickey,” Ian said, pulling him closer, “I’ll be here for you as long as you want me to be.”

Mickey felt a warmth spread in his chest, as he nuzzled Ian’s neck, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, real quick, I just want to say why I write what I write. I know that this is a love story at its core, but what makes this story so cathartic for me to write, is that I get to take all the serious topics that I feel the writers fumbled in the show, and change it to what I think is a better portrayal of the issue. This includes Mandy being raped by her father, Ian's past with sexual abuse and molestation, Mickey's struggle with breaking away from his family's bad name, and trying to be a good father. And I write this through the eyes of someone who is poor, and someone who is rich, to signify that everyone goes through problems. One of which is Mickey's mom. Now, Mickey's mom isn't mentioned a lot in the show, but we know a few things, she is around in s1, dead by s2, she ran away before she died, and she got pregnant at 12. Even if the child she got pregnant with was Colin or Iggy, they are not much older than Mickey, who's almost 26, and Terry looks like he's in his mid sixties, which means he was an adult when Mickey's mom was a child. I wanted to transfer that into the story, because they literally don't touch on it in the show, and even though this is a love story, this is also a story about overcoming trauma, and opening yourself up to people, who can be there for you in your worst times. And, I hope I don't offend people with these sensitive topic, but it's something I feel strongly about, and I want to give these serious topics the attention they deserve.


	14. Are We A Couple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is way too late. I was going to update last night, but I got busy, and you know how it goes. Though, I think it was last chapter where I said that I wouldn't wait so long to post a chapter, and it turned out being a longer wait for this one than the last one. I mean it this time, I think. I'll try to get these chapters out faster. I've just been really busy lately. Anyway, if you were waiting all this time for a sad Ian chapter, than you're in luck, because that's basically what this is. With some heartwarming stuff, and funny stuff, of course. Anyway, there is a chapter warning, which is: physical abuse. So, just know that's in there. As always, thank you for all of your sweet comments and your kudos. Also, thanks for reading!

The clock ticked loudly on the wall while Ian sat nervously in his chair, picking at his fingernails. He looked around the room, eyes scanning over the health charts and the motivational posters on the soft blue walls, which were a nice change from the bright white coloring the rest of the hospital had. It was good to have a calming surrounding, when Ian felt like a mess on the inside.

It didn’t take rocket scientist to figure out that Ian was teetering on mania again. There were small things here and there, that indicated something was wrong, but it all came to a head yesterday, when Mickey talked about his mom. What happened to Mickey’s mother kind of hit home for Ian. It made him feel raw and exposed. His skin prickled, like he was undergoing some type of invisible acupuncture. It made him feel sick, yet antsy, which was probably what caused him to mass clean Mickey’s room. Mickey had left, and Ian was alone with his thoughts, and he didn’t want to focus on them.

He didn’t want to focus on any of it. Not Mickey, or Mickey’s mother. Not his own mother. Not what happened to Mandy regarding her father. Not Lip falling off the wagon. Not Fiona falling apart, trying to keep everything together. He didn’t want to think about any of it, so he cleaned.

Cleaning was more than a stress reliever. Ian cleaned sporadically whenever he felt like he was losing himself. Cleaning kept him focused. Even if he’d already cleaned something, he’d do it again. It only happened to him when he felt a manic episode coming. He’d stay up all night and clean, or cook, or workout. He wouldn’t sleep. The excessive cleaning was a sign of Ian’s medication not working, and the realization hit him the night before, at Mickey’s. Luckily, Mickey didn’t find it too stranger that Ian cleaned his room. Mickey was kind of a slob, after all.

Ian sighed, as he looked back up at the clock. He could hear the individual tics as the seconds went by. To him, they sounded like they were giant church bells, loud and ringing in his head. It was as if the clock were stamping the sound directly on his eardrums. Tic, tic, tic, the noise slowly and agonizingly marched on, as Ian felt his irritation start to rise. He didn’t think he could take it anymore when the door opened. Ian looked up to see his psychiatrist, Dr. Taylor, step into the room.

Dr. Taylor had been recommended to him by Trevor, around the time he was first diagnosed. In the early days of his disorder, Ian would go to Trevor when he felt like he needed to talk or needed advice. Trevor, of course, tried to help when he could, but eventually told Ian that he needed an actual doctor. Trevor recommended Dr. Taylor, because she used to work in the same juvenile psychiatric hospital Trevor would direct some of his cases to.

Dr. Taylor was a kind woman, and when Trevor first recommended her, Ian was a bit reluctant. However, when he finally met her, Ian liked Dr. Taylor immediately, and he’d been going to see her regularly ever since.

After shutting the door, Dr. Taylor greeted him with a smile, “Hi, Ian, how are we today?”

Ian watched as Dr. Taylor took a seat across from him, placing a folder she was carrying on the desk in front of her. He gave her a shy smile, and said, “Alright, I guess.”

Dr. Taylor flipped through the folder, “Says here, you were scheduled for a check up on the fifth of August,” she pointed out, eyes roaming over the paper.

“I know, but I’ve noticed some problems going on with me, so I called. I know it’s really short notice, it being a Sunday and everything.”

Dr. Taylor looked up from Ian’s folder to give him a reassuring smile, “It’s fine, Ian. My last appointment canceled, and I’m not going home until one anyway,” she explained, before setting the folder down and folding her hands in her lap, “So, what are we here for today?”

Ian fidgeted in his seat, “Uh, well, I’m here because I think my meds are going out of wack again.”

“Do you remember the last time we changed your prescription?”

“Yeah, it was the beginning of this month. The first, I think. You took me off Aripiprazole and put me on Olanzapine.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. Your previous medication had stopped being effective, so we changed you to something different.”

“Yeah, I was starting to show signs of mania again.”

“Do you have an idea to why you think this prescription isn’t working, Ian?”

Ian let out a sigh, “Well, I think it might be because of some recent stress.”

Dr. Taylor nodded thoughtfully, “Elaborate. What kind of stress?”

Ian picked at his fingernails, looking down at his lap, “I don’t know. Just stress, I guess.”

“Now, Ian, we’ve talked about this,” Dr. Taylor warned, but in a kind and nurturing way, “I can’t help, if you’re not specific.”

“I know.”

“Let’s try to empty your mind. We don’t have to talk about everything all at once. Empty your mind, and then think about what’s making you stressed. Pick the first thing you think of, and we’ll go from there.”

Ian nodded, and then drew in a deep breath. He exhaled as he tried to clear his thoughts. Like always, however, when Ian tried to think of anything, his thoughts always came back to Mickey, “Well, I’ve been seeing someone new recently. I think that might be part of it,” Ian said bashfully.

Dr. Taylor nodded her head, “And how’s that been going?”

“Fine. More than fine, actually. He’s amazing.”

“How long has the relationship been going on?”

“Since May, but we weren’t officially dating until the end of last month.”

“Right when you started feeling manic again?”

“Yeah. We were kinda going hot and cold for a while, but now we’re pretty stable, I think.”

“Does your partner-”

“Mickey,” Ian interjected.

Dr. Taylor gave Ian a small smile, before continuing, “Mickey. Does Mickey inadvertently make you stressed, or does he actively go out of his way to do so? What about the relationship has you feeling the way you feel right now?”

“Well, the relationship itself is fine. Mickey’s a good guy, he’s kinda brash and standoffish when you first meet him, but when you get to know him, he’s this thoughtful, loyal guy, who’s just…” Ian didn’t know how to describe it. He didn’t know how to describe all the amazing things that Mickey was. So, Ian just said, “who’s just Mickey. Does that make sense?”

Dr. Taylor nodded, and Ian continued.

“Back when we were just figuring us out, he did cause a lot of stress in my life, but that’s only because he was feeling stressed about me too. I think that’s what caused me to slip back out the first time, but this time, I don’t know. I think it might be everything else.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, Mickey has a lot of baggage, and so does his family. I guess I’ve been getting too tied up in their world. I-” Ian stopped short, he tried to frame his words as best as he could, “None of that is Mickey’s fault, or his family’s. He lives with his four brothers, his cousin, and his sister, over on the South side, and his son comes to stay with him every other week. They’re all great, y’know? And Mickey’s sister, has actually become my best friend in the few months that I’ve known her. I found out a lot of stuff about her recently, and I don’t know how to process it, I guess.”

“Like what?”

Ian hesitated. He felt reluctant about sharing personal things about Mickey and Mandy, even though he knew everything he said to Dr. Taylor was confidential. However, it was hard not to think about the past few weeks. Not only what it did to Mandy and Mickey, but also how it affected Lip. Ian sighed, “I found out that she’d been sexually abused by her father, who’s in jail now, and he’s only in jail because Mickey got him sent there, but it costed Mickey getting put into a coma for a month, because his dad beat him up. I only found this out, because around that time my brother, Lip, was seeing Mandy, and she’d gotten pregnant, and couldn’t tell him the truth, so he dumped her. Lip took a summer job at the same place Mickey works, and that was around the same time Mickey and I started seeing each other. So, obviously, one of us had to connect the dots, and it was not pretty when Lip found Mandy again. It caused a fight between him and Mickey, and it caused him to fall off the wagon. He’s better now, but it was still upsetting to watch. Oh, and it turns out Mickey’s mom was twelve when she got pregnant with his brother, which wouldn’t be too fucked up, if Mickey’s dad wasn’t thirty at the time. So, it was triggering to see that, but then all my awkwardness made Mickey think I was ashamed of him, but I wasn’t ashamed.”

After Ian’s long rant, Dr. Taylor blinked at him in surprise, “Uh, I can see how that would be stressful on someone.”

Ian groaned, covering his face with his hands, “I think it’s all getting to me, because Mickey thinks I’m this perfect guy, and he feels like if he messes up, I’ll leave him. But that isn’t true. If anything, I should be the one who thinks that.”

Dr. Taylor cleared her throat, “Well, it’s obvious you seem very invested in Mickey’s personal life.”

“Yeah, I feel like I know everything about him.”

“What does he know about you?”

Ian blanked. He didn’t know what to say.

Dr. Taylor continued, “Ian, it can be very daunting to reveal some of the things you’ve experienced. Sometimes, when we feel like we can’t talk about our problems, we’ll cling to someone else’s.”

“Are you saying it’s wrong for me to care about Mickey’s feelings?”

Dr. Taylor gave Ian a knowing smile, “I think we both know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Mickey knows a bunch of stuff about me. I told him about my past sexual abuse, and the men I’ve been with. I’m very open with him.”

“Are you open with him about everything?”

“Do I have to be?”

“It would be helpful in a relationship to be one hundred percent honest, yes.”

“I mean, I haven’t told him _everything_. We’ve only been dating for a month.”

“I see,” Dr. Taylor said, as she scribbled down something on her note pad.

“What?”

“Have you told him about your bipolar disorder?”

Ian stiffened. It was as if the room had no oxygen because it was suddenly hard to breathe. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“Is there a specific reason why?”

“No,” Ian said, a little louder.

“Maybe you should. That seems like something important for Mickey to know.”

“Why is it important?” Ian snapped, “Why should it matter if I tell him or not? There’s nothing wrong with me. You even say it yourself. So, _why_ should I have to tell him?”

“Ian-”

“It’s like covering myself in cautionary tape,” he said, wrapping his arms around himself, “I don’t want him to look at me differently.”

There was a long pause that hung in the air after that. Ian didn’t know what else to say, but he felt foolish for talking to his therapist like that. He was feeling irritated this time around, like he was on pins and needles. He assumed it had something to do with Mickey, and what he’d say if he ever found out. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but everyone always made it one, and maybe that’s why Ian was so scared. That, and of course, the fact that Mickey said he’d never want to be with someone like Ian’s mother.

Dr. Taylor waited for Ian to speak, but when a few minutes passed and he didn’t, she said, “Can I read something for you, Ian?”

“Sure.”

Dr. Taylor looked down at Ian’s folder, thumbing through it until she stopped, and then pulled out a piece of paper. She then began to read from it, “At the beginning of this year, you we admitted to the hospital for breaking and entering into your ex boyfriend’s apartment, and accused your ex boyfriend’s current partner of kidnapping him. You also tried to jump out of a moving vehicle going eighty on the highway. Your sister brought you here because she was concerned for your wellbeing. You had been unmedicated for almost six months and were going through a severe manic episode. It says here that you said your boyfriend had asked you to stop taking them, because you would perform better in the bedroom. You said that he’d been cheating on you, and he said the medication was turning you into someone else, which caused him to be unfaithful towards you. We then kept you here for a week to evaluate you and prescribe you new medication,” Dr. Taylor stopped reading, and looked back up at Ian, “Since then you have gotten into a new relationship. Shortly after, you came here for a prescription change, and now you’re requesting another one only a month later. Can you see why that would cause me to be a little concerned?”

Ian nodded and stared down at his lap, “To be honest with you, I hadn’t thought of Caleb in a long time, not since I started seeing Mickey. I know a lot of what Mickey and I have been through has caused me stress in the past, but he’s nothing like Caleb. He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before. I know it might sound stupid, but I’m in love with him. And I know I have to tell him about my bipolar eventually, but I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of, Ian?”

“I’m scared he won’t look at me the same. I’m scared he won’t love me back.”

Dr. Taylor nodded, and slipped the piece of paper she was holding back into Ian’s file. She then folded her hands on her desk, and looked to him, “The stress you are putting on yourself isn’t good for your health, Ian.”

“I know.”

“Where have your siblings been in all this? Have you talked to them about your feelings about telling Mickey about you disorder?”

Ian shook his head, “I haven’t really been around them this summer. I’ve mostly been with-”

“Mickey?”

“Yeah.”

“I know being in a new relationship is exciting, but don’t forget who keeps you grounded. Your family is your support system.”

“I know,” Ian said, “I have been neglecting them a lot recently. I don’t mean to.”

Dr. Taylor gave him a small smile, “I know you don’t, Ian.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Let’s do this. I’m going to up your dosage of Olanzapine, since we started you out small.”

“Ok.”

“I’m also prescribing you one week of family bonding time. Try staying at your house this week. You can keep in contact with Mickey, but try to focus on your family a little more, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, Dr. Taylor,” Ian said sincerely, “I know I might be overreacting, but I just want to be careful.”

“Ian, please don’t dismiss yourself like that. I may have been a doctor for half my life, but I’ve only been treating you for about four years. You’ve spent your entire life being you. And you know yourself better than anyone. Don’t psych yourself out.”

Ian nodded, “Alright.”

“That being said, I don’t want you going too far in the opposite direction and blaming every little thing you do on your mania. It’s ok to be emotional, Ian. You’re going to experience great excitement, extreme sadness, and intense anger sometimes, and that’s fine. You’re human, not a robot, ok? You’re allowed to have strong emotions, just like anyone else.”

Ian nodded again, “Thank you,” he said, standing up to shake the doctor’s hand.

“You’re welcome, Ian. I hope that in our next visit we’ll see some more positive results.”

“Me too,” Ian said, letting go of her hand, “Me too,” and with that, Ian said his goodbyes and left Dr. Taylor’s office feeling a little better than before.

After his session with Dr. Taylor, Ian texted Mickey that he’d be staying at his own house for the rest of the week. When Mickey asked how come? Ian said that he had been neglecting his family, which wasn’t entirely untrue. Mickey, of course, wasn’t mad at all. If anyone knew the value of family, it was him. Besides, Ian would see him Saturday night anyway, since Ian had invited Mickey to go out with him and Trevor for a night in boy’s town, followed by a Sox game he’d invited both Mickey and Yevgeny to the next day. So, Ian would have time to catch up with Mickey on the weekend. And even though Ian would miss him, maybe it was best if they spent a little time apart. They could always text anyway.

Once he updated Mickey, Ian went back to his house for some much-needed family time. When he told his family about his visit with the psychiatrist, they were all very supportive, and encouraged Ian to stay home. That night, they all watched a movie together, and Ian forgot how much he actually missed his family.

The next day, Ian left to go get his new prescription. Unfortunately for him, however, Ian got a few more side effects this time around. Even more unfortunately, it was erectile disfunction. Ian only knew that, because when he tried to jerk off to some pictures he had saved of Mickey, his dick wouldn’t get up if his life depended on it. He continuously tried to get hard for hours, but to no avail. Ian knew this wasn’t good.

On Tuesday, Ian felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. He’d done nothing all day but go to the gym and work out. His siblings were all out doing other things, and he was left home alone, until Sheila came back after doing her errands for the day.

Ian decided to help her with dinner, since he wasn’t doing much of anything else. When his siblings finally came home, Ian was happy to see them. That was, of course, until Fiona and Lip started throwing passive aggressive jabs at each other, causing everyone to just eat in their rooms.

Ian was still awake when everyone went to bed. He couldn’t sleep, so he made a box of cinnamon toast sticks, and then he settled in on the couch to watch a movie. Near the end of the film, Ian got a text from Mickey.

When Ian opened the text message, he was intrigued to see it was only a video attachment. Ian pressed play, and his jaw almost hit the floor when he saw Mickey, who was completely naked, laying on his bed, jerking himself off.

Ian breathed hard, turning the volume on low. He watched it a couple of times before texting Mickey back, _‘Seriously?’_

_‘What? That getting you hard, Gallagher?’_

If Ian were to be honest with Mickey, no it wasn’t getting him hard. Even though Ian really wanted it to. Though, instead of trying to explain why he wasn’t, Ian decided to lie by saying, _‘Yeah, it is.’_

_‘How hard?’_

_‘Very hard, Mick.’_

_‘Show me.’_

Well, that was a curveball. Luckily, Ian was prepared, as he always kept a folder in his phone of his own nudes. Was it vain? Maybe. Or maybe Ian didn’t want to take his pants off and show his dick, every time some guy asks to see it on Grindr. Though, there wasn’t much use for them now, Ian was glad he didn’t delete them. Quickly, Ian scrolled through his folder, and picks one that Mickey hasn’t seen.

Ian waits for Mickey’s response and while he does, he tries everything to get his dick to work. He didn’t have time to pop a Cialis or Viagra, so he just tried to get it up by watching Mickey’s video, which didn’t excite his body in the slightest.

Suddenly, another video came through, and this one almost took Ian’s breath away.

The camera angle was a little weird, but Ian saw everything. And what he saw, were anal beads. Specifically, Mickey inserting them into his ass.

Ian groaned softly, as he pulled and tugged at his unresponsive dick for the next five minutes. He couldn’t believe how useless his penis was, letting out another huff of disappointment when Mickey sent him a new video. This one, of him slowly pulling the beads out of him one by one, panting heavily and moaning.

Nothing. His dick was giving him nothing, and Ian wanted to cry. This was probably the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and his lower half was completely numb to any kind of sexual arousal. Though he kept trying, twisting, and pulling, rubbing his thumb over his slit, trying to elicit anything.

Soon, Ian got another text from Mickey.

_‘Fuck, Ian. You made me come so hard. Did you finish?’_

_‘No, I didn’t fucking finish,’_ Ian thought bitterly, _‘I didn’t even get started.’_ Ian then regretted the thought. It wasn’t Mickey’s fault the meds made his dick limp. Ian begrudgingly sent back, _‘Yeah, I finished.’_

_‘Lemme see.’_

Ian blinked down at the phone. Let him see? How the fuck was Ian supposed to do that? Ian frantically scrolled through all his nudes, and not one of them were a pic of him with jizz on his chest. Which was surprising, since Ian had just about everything else. Ian was no coward when it came to nude photos. His eyes then darted to the small cup of icing he made for his cinnamon toast sticks. It was still warm from when he reheated it. He let out a frustrated sigh and took off his shirt. He then looked around the empty living room, knowing no one was awake, but just wanted to make sure.

Without giving it a second thought, Ian grabbed the cup and flicked the icing on his stomach and chest, before taking his phone and snapping a picture of it. He sure hoped this worked.

It only took a second for Mickey to respond, _‘Fuck, that’s a lot. Wanna lick it all off you.’_

Ian let out a laugh, surprised that Mickey believed him. Ian then grabbed some napkins and wiped the icing off his chest before texting Mickey goodnight.

After that, Ian grabbed his shirt, and then walked into the bathroom to wash off the remaining sweet sticky residue. While Ian was cleaning off his chest, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was starting to get a rash along his neck and behind his ears, which was a side effect from his meds. All Ian could think, was that it would be hard to explain to Mickey. Well it might be easier to explain than his flaccid cock, which was surly dead for the foreseeable future.

Ian gripped the sides of the sink as he continued his stare down in the mirror, blowing a few stray hairs out of his eyes. He was a fucking mess, and Mickey didn’t even know the half of it. Ian pushed himself off the sink, ready to call it a night, when he suddenly heard the front door open and slam shut.

“What the fuck?” Ian muttered, rushing out to the foyer, to see Frank, swaying and murmuring to himself. “Jesus, Frank. You’re fucking wasted,” Ian grimaced.

Frank pulled his head up to look at Ian. He furrowed his brow, “Clayton? What are you doing here?”

Ian gave Frank a strange look, “What?”

“It’s a little late for a visit, don’t you think?” he said with a laugh, pushing past him to slink into the living room.

Ian stood still and watched him for a moment, wondering how Frank had gotten so drunk, that he’d be calling Ian by his brother’s name. Ian then snapped out of it, and quickly followed Frank, who was slowly but surely making his way towards the stairs. When Ian caught up to him, he grabbed Frank by his shoulder.

Frank stumbled a bit, but pulled out of Ian’s grasp, “Didn’t you hear what I said? Go home!”

“Christ, Frank, shut up,” Ian hissed, hoping Frank didn’t wake up Liam or Franny, “Also, it’s Ian, not Clayton.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, staring at Ian hard before saying, “Oh, yeah. Sorry, son. Sometimes, you look almost identical to my brother.”

_‘Maybe that’s because he’s my biological father,’_ Ian thought, already annoyed by Frank’s presence.

“Well, this little reunion was fun, but let’s continue this in the morning, yeah? Your father had a hard day, and he needs to sleep it off,” Frank slurred, turning back to go up the stairs.

“No, Frank,” Ian warned, stepping in front of the inebriated man, “You’re not going up those stairs. I can’t have you waking the kids up.”

“Fuck them,” Frank sneered, trying to push Ian out of the way, “I pay for this place. I can go wherever the fuck I want.”

Ian scoffed, “The only place you’re going is the couch. Sleep there, until you’re at least sober enough to not fall over.”

Frank wriggled out of Ian’s grasp, and before Ian could stop him, Frank backhanded him in the face, hard.

Ian stumbled back, grabbing on to the stair rail. He immediately brought his hand up to hold his cheek but pulled it back when he felt a wetness. Ian’s eyes widened, as he stared at his fingers now reddened with blood. He looked back to Frank to see him rubbing the back of his hand, which had a ring on it. Ian assumed that’s what cut him. “Goddamn it, Frank,” Ian gritted out.

Frank ignored him, however, and made his way up the stairs, mumbling, “Little bastard, trying to tell me where to go.”

Ian held his hand to his cheek, feeling the familiar sting in his eyes, already welling up with tears. Ian then rushed to the bathroom, trying not get any blood on the floor.

_‘Fucking Frank,’_ he thought bitterly as he bent over the sink. He washed the blood off his hands, and then immediately started cleaning the wound. Ian sighed in relief when he realized he wouldn’t need stitches. He quickly finished cleaning himself up, before putting a bandage on the cut. Ian then cleaned up any remaining blood, before leaving the bathroom and going up the stairs.

When Ian got to the upstairs hallway, he noticed Frank curled up in a ball of the floor, sleeping.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me,” Ian muttered, making his way over to Frank, who was clearly passed out.

Ian stood over him, staring down at the sleeping man with contempt. Ian felt a strong urge to kick Frank in the head, and he would have done it too, if it weren’t for a soft sound that broke Ian out of his angry daze.

“Uncle Ian?” Franny murmured, rubbing at her eyes. She was standing in her doorway, looking tired and confused.

“Hey, Franny,” Ian said gently, ignoring Frank completely, and walked over to his niece, “What are you doing up?”

“Too loud,” she whined as Ian scooped her up into his arms.

“I know, Fran, I’m sorry.”

Franny pointed at Frank, “Grandpa is sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, he’s silly, isn’t he?”

Franny nodded, and then buried her head into Ian’s shoulder.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you back to bed,” Ian said, carrying Franny back into her room. He then gently laid her on the bed, “Try going back to sleep, ok?”

“No, don’t go,” she said, holding onto Ian, “Stay.”

Ian looked to his niece and smiled, “You want me to stay until you go back to sleep?”

Franny nodded, as Ian sat down at the edge of the bed. She looked at him in the dark, and then reached out to touch his cheek, causing him to flinch a little, “Uncle Ian got booboo?”

“Yeah.”

“How come?”

“I fell. It was an accident.”

“Oh,” Franny said, standing up on her bed, leaning over to kiss Ian on the cheek, “Booboo all better now?”

Ian’s smile widened, as he pulled Franny into a hug, “Yeah, Franny,” he said, kissing her on the head, “all better.”

“Mommy says kisses make booboos go away.”

“She’s right,” Ian said, letting his niece go, “Why don’t you get under the covers, and I’ll read you a book.”

“Yay!” Franny said happily, before getting settled back into bed.

Ian then grabbed a story book from Franny’s bookshelf and began to read.

Franny was asleep before Ian even finished the book. Ian put it back on the shelf, and then quietly walked out of Franny’s room. Much to Ian’s annoyance, Frank was still on the floor. Ian grumbled something under his breath, and then grabbed Frank by his feet, dragging him to his room.

Ian didn’t bother with putting Frank in bed, just leaving him on the floor next to it. He then walked one door over to his own room, and laid down in bed for some much-deserved sleep.

When morning came, Ian immediately got up to take a shower. When he finished, he quickly got dressed and packed an overnight bag. Ian knew Dr. Taylor wanted him to stay home, but if she had known Frank was back, she’d probably recommend he’d stay anywhere else. Frank was definitely not good for Ian’s mental health.

When Ian made his way downstairs, he was surprised to see Fiona and Carl in the living room. Ian would have thought they’d be off doing something else by now.

When Fiona looked up at Ian coming down the stairs, she did a double take, and then put her hand over her mouth, “Ian, what the fuck happened to your cheek?”

Before he could answer, Carl looked up as well and gaped at him, “You got cut, man,” he blurted out, stating the obvious.

Ian rolled his eyes, shifting the bag on his shoulder, “It’s ok, I’m fine.”

Fiona shook her head, “You don’t look fine, Ian.”

“It’s alright, Fi, I’m serious. I accidently slipped in the bathroom last night. I fell and cut my cheek on the edge of the sink.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes, not looking very convinced. However, instead of pushing further, her eyes focused on Ian’s bag, “What’s this?”

“I’m going to stay at Mickey’s. Just for tonight.”

Fiona folded her arms, “I thought Dr. Taylor said you needed to stay home.”

Ian sighed, “She did, but things have changed.”

“What things?”

“Frank is back.”

A collective groan came from his two siblings.

“Seriously?” Fiona scoffed.

“Yeah, he came back last night. He was drunk off his ass.”

“Typical,” Carl muttered.

“Well,” she said, considering this, “probably best you do stay with Mickey then. Best to avoid Frank if possible, especially since your trying to prevent stress.”

“Thanks, Fiona,” Ian said, making his way to the front door.

“If you need anything just call. I’ll be at the bridal shop today, picking out my wedding dress. Which reminds me, did you ever talk to Mickey about coming to my wedding?”

Ian nodded, “He said he’d go, but that there better be an open bar.”

Fiona shook her head with a laugh, “Not much of a wedding guy, huh?”

“He’s not much of a partyer, no,” Ian admitted, standing next to the door.

“Who’s not much of a partyer?” came an annoying yet familiar voice.

Ian’s blood boiled as he looked up to see Frank coming down the steps.

“Frank,” his siblings both muttered in acknowledgement.

“Hello, three of my ungrateful children. I hope you’re all doing well this morning.”

“We were until you showed up,” Fiona said.

Frank rolled his eyes, and then looked to Ian, “And where are you going this early, son?”

“None of your fucking business, Frank.”

Frank stared at Ian for a moment and said, “That’s some cut you got there. Hopefully, you’re not going around fighting. That’s very unbecoming of you.”

Ian wanted nothing more than to punch Frank, but he stayed right where he was, as Frank continued to speak.

“I see you’ve packed an overnight bag. Are you spending the night at some boy’s house? Perhaps the same one from the beginning of summer? Or did that fall flat, and you’ve moved on to different seedy locations while I was gone?”

Instead of answering Frank, Ian stayed quiet. Unfortunately, that seemed to answer Frank’s question.

Frank let out a disappointed sigh, “Fine, don’t tell me, but do try to be back by tomorrow evening. Sheila will be making something for my welcome home dinner.”

Ian looked to him like he was nuts, but he still stayed silent.

“Oh, and bring your new boy toy. I’d like to meet him.”

“Fat fucking chance, Frank,” Ian snapped, breaking his silence.

“Oh, don’t be like that, son. In fact, Fiona, you can bring Jimmy over, and Carl could bring his girlfriend over. We’ll have everyone over. That way you won’t feel so nervous.”

Ian, who had his hand on the door, stared at Frank angrily, “No thanks. I’m actually busy tomorrow night.”

“Fine, fine, skip your father’s welcome home party. It isn’t like I raised you all these years, and helped shape you into the fine young man you are today,” Frank sighed, “I hope missing my party will be worth the _consequences_.”

Ian narrowed his eyes at how Frank said ‘consequences,’ meaning, Ian was fucked either way. Ian sighed, just wanting to leave, “Fuck, fine, whatever.”

“Don’t forget your boyfriend. It’s important I keep an eye on my children’s love life. To be engaged and supportive, that’s the best I can do for you, as a father.”

“Frank, the best thing you could do for me, is drop dead,” Ian growled, ripping the door open, and then slamming it behind him.

It wasn’t a long drive from his house to Mickey’s, but Ian felt like it was taking forever. When Ian finally pulled up to the Milkovich house, Mickey was already outside, sitting on the steps, smoking, and looking at his phone. When Mickey looked up to see Ian’s jeep, a smile spread across his face, and he snuffed the cigarette out. He then got up to greet Ian, but his smile dropped when Ian stepped out of the car, and he got a look at the redhead’s face.

“Hey,” Ian said, when he got to Mickey, not meeting his eyes.

Mickey cupped his face, moving it so he could get a better look at the cut, “What the fuck, Ian? What happened?”

Ian pulled back from Mickey’s touch, “Nothing happened, Mickey, I’m fine. I fell and cut my cheek on the corner of the bathroom sink.”

Mickey stared at him hard, and then after a beat said, “You’re lying to me.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

Mickey crossed his arms, “Look me in the eyes, Ian. Look me in the eyes and tell me you cut your face on the sink.”

Begrudgingly, Ian brought his eyes up to meet Mickey’s. He was about to say it when his words got caught in his throat. All Ian could do was stare into Mickey’s vengeful eyes, which were like blue fire. Mickey was fuming, and Ian couldn’t make a sound.

“Thought so,” Mickey huffed, “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

Ian stayed silent.

Mickey examined him more, “Did someone else cause that?” when Mickey saw Ian cast his eyes down again, he said, “That’s it, isn’t it? Someone hit you.”

Ian crossed his arms over his chest tightly, as if he were hugging himself to keep himself warm. He didn’t want to say it, because he knew how Mickey would react, but if he didn’t say it, Mickey wouldn’t let it go. Ian gave a reserved sigh, “Look, Mickey, it isn’t a big deal. It was Frank. He came home late; he was shitfaced drunk. He wasn’t even calling me by my name, he-”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mickey interjected, “Frank? Frank, your dad, Frank? He fucking put his hands on you?”

“He backhanded me and accidently cut me with his ring,” Ian desperately tried to explain, but Mickey had already turned on his heel, going up the front steps, “Mickey!” Ian called out, trying to keep up with him.

Mickey burst through the front door, causing it to slam hard against the wall, causing Mandy and Sandy, who were lounging on the couch, to jump.

“Mickey, wait!” Ian tried again, as he heard a gasp come from the direction of the couch.

“Ian,” Mandy said, quickly getting up, “What happened to your face?”

“His dad fucking hit him,” Mickey snapped.

“What?” Mandy’s eyes widened, and by now Sandy was up too.

Ian ignored them, following Mickey over to a cabinet, where he was pulling out a gun. Ian felt like the air was punched out of him. He tried to make a grab for Mickey, but was cut off by Mandy, “Ian, why did your dad hit you? What’s going on?”

Mandy whirled around to her brother, who was loading his pistol, “Mickey!”

Mickey didn’t listen to her, and pushed past her, as Colin and Iggy appeared from the hallway.

“The fuck is going on out here?” Colin questioned.

Iggy glanced over at Ian, “Fuck, man. Were you in a fight or something?”

“His dad hit him. I’m gonna put a fuckin’ bullet in his head. You two in?”

Iggy and Colin nodded, “Sure, why not? Got nothin’ else to do today,” Iggy said.

Ian was hyperventilating at this point, tears streaming down his face. If Mickey walked out of the house with his gun and shot Frank, he’d go back to prison. He looked to Mandy, “Make him stop, Mandy. Please, make him stop.”

Mandy nodded, and then turned to her brother, “Mickey.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Mickey.”

“We’ll get him, and then get rid of the body. I’ll call Uncle Joe, and we can dump it at the foundry.”

“Mickey!” A voice rang out, but this time it was Sandy. She stalked over to Mickey and grabbed him hard by his wrist, pinning him to the wall.

Mickey’s eyes widened, “The fuck, Sandy?”

“Listen to yourself, Mick! What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

“What’s the matter with me? I’m not the one who-”

“Shut up,” Sandy snapped, “Look at Ian. Look at how you’re making him feel.”

Mickey, who was breathing heavily, glanced over at Ian, who was now a mess, “Fuck,” he whispered.

“So, are you done?”

Mickey looked to Sandy, and nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good,” she said, letting go of his wrists, “Now, go comfort your fucking boyfriend.”

Ian watched as Mickey handed the gun to Sandy, and then quickly made his way over to Ian, enveloping him in a hug.

Ian tensed, but soon relaxed into Mickey’s embrace, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist, and nuzzling his nose in Mickey’s neck. “Mickey,” he sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Ian,” Mickey mumbled, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Ian’s head, holding him tighter.

“So, are we whacking somebody, or not?” Ian heard Iggy ask.

Ian lifted his head slightly just in time to see Mandy smack her brother over the head.

“Ow, what? It was just a fucking question,” Iggy grumbled.

Ian pulled back, wiping the tears from his eyes, “Hey, can we go lay down in your room?”

Mickey nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

“Also, can I stay here tonight? I really don’t want to go back home.”

Mickey gave him a heartbroken look, that made Ian feel worse. Mickey nodded, “Fuck, yeah, of course, man. You don’t even have to ask,” he glanced over at his cousin and siblings, who were still huddled together watching, and then he looked back to Ian, “You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Ian nodded, and then made his way to Mickey’s room. Once inside, he tossed his overnight bag on the floor next to the bed and went to close the door. He stopped when he heard his name.

“I can’t believe Ian’s dad would do that to him,” Sandy said.

“Ian told me once he had a bad relationship with his dad, and Lip did too. But I didn’t know he hit his kids,” Mandy said.

“Kid,” Mickey corrected her, his voice hard as ice, “he only hits Ian.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t fucking know, but I don’t think it matters. I find out he hits him again though, and I will fucking kill him. I don’t care what Ian says.”

“Mickey,” Mandy sighed.

“No, fuck this. I don’t want to just sit here and do nothing, while Ian has to suffer alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Sandy said, “he has you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey grumbled.

Ian moved away when he heard footsteps getting closer. He then walked over to the bed and sat down.

“Hey,” Mickey said softly when he opened the door.

“Hi,” Ian said, looking at his lap. He heard Mickey sigh and shut the door.

Mickey laid down next to Ian, “C’mere,” he murmured.

Ian turned to face Mickey, who was holding his arms out for Ian. Ian laid down and buried his nose in Mickey’s shoulder. He felt Mickey rub his hand up and down Ian’s back to sooth him. Ian let his eyes flutter shut, and let Mickey hold him, while he inhaled his lover’s calming scent.

After a few minutes, Ian shifted, wiggling out of Mickey’s grasp, and situated himself on to his side, while Mickey did the same. They were now facing each other, and Ian sighed when he felt Mickey’s hand come up, to play with his hair.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Ian said, parroting their conversation from a few minutes ago.

“Are you ok?”

“Better, now that I know you’re not going to kill my dad.”

“I’m sorry. I know I overreacted, but fuck, what was I supposed to do? He hurt you, and it freaked me out.”

“He didn’t hurt me that bad.”

“Ian.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t done it before,” Ian said, his voice breaking a little.

“Ian.”

Ian’s eyes were welling up now, “I should have just let him go upstairs. I shouldn’t have tried to stop him.”

“Ian,” Mickey said for a third time, rubbing his thumb over Ian’s cheek to wipe the tears away.

“Oh, god, Mick,” Ian sobbed, “Why does he hate me? What did I ever do to him?”

Mickey pulled Ian back into his embrace, cradling him, “Shh, Ian, it’s ok.”

“I-I never did anything to h-him. I never a- asked t-to be born.”

“It’s ok,” Mickey said again, “Just try to calm down.”

Ian nodded, and tried to do just that. He steadied his breathing, and let Mickey continue to sooth his worries. Ian tried clearing his mind. He tried to forget about Frank, and his disorder, and the looming fact of telling Mickey. No, all of that was put away in the back of his mind, and he let the soft sounds and touches from Mickey lull him to sleep.

When Ian woke up, he felt his phone buzzing, but made no attempts to answer it. After a few buzzes, he felt Mickey gently slide the phone out of his pocket.

“Hello?” he heard Mickey’s gruff voice say. He must have just woken up too. A few seconds later he heard Mickey say, “It’s Mickey. Ian’s sleeping right now.”

Ian let one of his eyes pop open, and he looked over to Mickey.

Mickey glanced down at Ian, noticing he was awake, and mouthed the words, “It’s Fiona.”

Ian stretched, waking himself up more, and then he said, “It’s fine. I can talk to her.”

Mickey nodded and handed the phone to Ian.

“Hey, Fi. What’s up?”

“Oh, Ian, did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

Ian yawned, “Yeah, but it’s ok. I should probably get up anyway. I slept,” Ian glanced at the clock on his phone. His eyes widened, “five hours?”

“Wow,” Fiona chuckled, “sounds like a good nap.”

“It was.”

“Is Mickey your personal secretary now?”

Ian rolled his eyes at the playful tone of his sister, “Maybe. Is there a reason you called?”

“Yes, actually. I’m in deep shit.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know I was supposed to go dress shopping today, right?”

“Yeah?”

“My bitch bridesmaids cancelled on me!”

“All of them?”

“Yes!”

“Isn’t Debbie one of your bridesmaids?”

Fiona sighed, “Yeah, but she’s shopping right now. She’s coming by the dress shop a little later with Franny. But I have no bridesmaids now, and I reserved the whole store for nothing, and I’ll look so stupid going in there alone!”

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fiona, please calm down.”

“I can’t, because all my friends ditched me and they did it on purpose too, because they’re bitches. Nessa and Mel are on vacation, Jasmine is on a stupid camping trip with her kids, and Estefania just did it, because Jimmy dumped her to be with me, which isn’t my fault! She should get over it, right? Anyway, they knew the date was today, and now I have no one to help me pick out my wedding dress.”

Ian wanted to break the phone in half. He loved his sister, but he didn’t care about dresses, or her friend group drama. All her friends were bitches anyway, and Ian didn’t really like any of them except for maybe Nessa. The rest of them only seemed to hang around Fiona for her money, and it pissed Ian off. But Fiona never really had any friends, so Ian guessed he shouldn’t say anything about the ones she did have. That doesn’t mean he had to like them.

Ian looked to Mickey, who was on his side, lazily playing with the zipper to Ian’s jeans. He tried to stifle a laugh when he said, “I’m sorry, Fiona. I don’t know what you want me to do though.”

“Is there any way you can come down here and pick my dress out with me?”

“I’m at Mickey’s, Fiona.”

“Well, he can come too!”

“I don’t think he’d be interested,” Ian said, as he watched Mickey pull down his zipper and pop open the buttons on his jeans. He swallowed hard, “Why don’t you just ask Lip or Carl, or even Liam? Hell, ask Sheila. I’m sure she’d love to help.”

“Franks got Sheila cleaning and cooking for tomorrow. Liam’s at his friend’s house. Lip won’t even speak to me, and Carl said no, and-”

“Ok!” Ian half shouted, as Mickey slipped his hand into Ian’s boxers, “Yes, ok, fine.”

“Oh my god, Ian. Thank you so much! You have no idea how much you’re helping me out.”

“Yeah, ok, ok,” he said, trying to hurry Fiona off the phone.

“Oh, and could you see if your friend V wants to come too? I’d like another woman’s opinion, and I really liked her.”

At this point Ian would have agreed to try on wedding dresses himself to get his sister off the phone, “Yeah, fine.”

“Ian, you’re the best! Be at the shop it about an hour, ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” he grunted, as Mickey started pulling his underwear down.

“Ok, bye, love you!”

“Yeah, you too,” Ian said, before hanging up the phone, “Mickey,” he moaned.

“You like that, Gallagher?”

Did Ian like it? Ian looked down at his dick, which wasn’t getting hard at all. Of course, Ian liked it, but his brain and his body weren’t on the same page. Ian gently pushed Mickey back, “Maybe not right now, Mick. Y’know with everything that’s been going on, I really don’t want sex,” he lied.

Mickey quickly pulled his hand away, “Shit, man, sorry. Right, I should have asked you if it was cool.”

Ian shook his head with a small smile, grabbing Mickey’s wrist and pulling him in for a kiss, “It’s ok, Mickey. I appreciate you trying to help.”

“Not much I _can_ do to help, Gallagher.”

“Just you being here helps, Mick.”

Mickey scoffed, but he was smiling, “Whatever, man. You say the most flowery shit sometimes. So, what did your sister want?”

Ian let out an exhausted sigh, “Oh, she wants me to help her shop for her wedding dress.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “Ain’t that supposed to be a girl thing?”

Ian rolled his eyes, as he pulled his underwear back up, and buttoned his pants, “Her bitch friends cancelled on her, and my sister Debbie won’t be there until later. You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

“C’mon, Mick.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t know shit about dresses. Svetlana didn’t even wear a dress for our wedding. We got hitched at the courthouse.”

“You don’t have to know anything about dresses. Fiona already knows what kind she wants. Our job is to say yes to the one’s she’s excited for, and no to the one’s she’s not all that hyped about. It should take like three- or four-hours max.”

“Well, if she already knows what she wants, why the fuck does she need us?”

“Because it’s better with friends and family. Fiona kinda got ditched by everyone, so it’s up to us-”

“To you.”

“-to be there for her.”

“The answer’s still no, man. Just go see your sister, and then come back in a few hours. I’ll still be here.”

Ian looked to Mickey, who seemed to be adamant on not going. So, Ian put on his pouty face, and said, “I’d really like it if you came with me, Mickey.”

Mickey snorted out a laugh, “Don’t pull that pouty shit, man. It ain’t gonna work this time.”

Despite Mickey’s protest, Ian didn’t let up, letting his eyes drop, “I guess I’ll go alone. I’ll miss you though.”

“Christ,” Mickey muttered, rolling his eyes.

Ian continued to stare at Mickey, until the older boy threw up his hands.

“Fuck, fine, Gallagher, I’ll go. So, wipe that stupid look off your face.”

Ian’s pout then transformed into a cocky grin, “Oh, Mickey, you’ll come with me? You’re so sweet.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey laughed, “Also I’m not trying on any dresses.”

Ian let out a startled laugh, “No one fucking asked you to. Is that what you think happens when men are in a dress shop? They make you try shit on?”

“Shut up, man, I don’t know. Let’s just get this over with.”

Ian nodded, and watched as Mickey got up from the bed, “Also, Fiona wants to know if V could come too?”

“I don’t give a shit, man. I’m not her keeper.”

“Do you think she’d want to?”

“We can go by the Alibi and ask. I gotta use the crapper before we leave though.”

“Once again, Mickey Milkovich astounds me with his poetic words.”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Mickey smirked, before leaning down to kiss Ian on the mouth, “You like the way I talk.”

Ian smirked back, “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Ditto, Gallagher,” Mickey said, before leaving to go to the bathroom.

When Mickey shut the door, Ian leaned back on the bed. He decided he’d relax and wait for Mickey to finish when he remembered something. He didn’t take his meds that morning.

“Shit,” Ian hissed, getting up to grab his overnight bag. He rummaged through it until he found his mood stabilizers and his antipsychotics. He then glanced over at the bathroom door, before leaving Mickey’s room.

Ian did a once over, making sure no one was in the living room, and then headed to the hallway bathroom. When he reached the door, Ian put his hand on the knob, when the door swung open in front of him to reveal Mandy.

Mandy screamed a little in surprise, probably not expecting Ian to be there.

Ian jumped, losing grip on the pill bottles, and dropped them on the floor.

“Oh, god, Ian, you scared the shit outta me,” Mandy laughed a little, before noticing the pill bottles, “Hey, are you getting sick?” she questioned with a worried tone. She bent down to grab them, “Here, let me get that-”

“No, don’t touch those! Fuck, why do you have to be so goddamn nosy?!” Ian snapped, causing Mandy to straighten back up.

Mandy stared at Ian in shock because he’d never spoken to her that way before.

Ian looked back at her with the same expression because he couldn’t believe he just yelled at her. He was just so freaked, and it slipped out. Ian tried to explain, “Fuck, Mandy, I’m so sorry.”

Mandy shook her head, “No, it’s whatever,” she said, pushing past him.

“Mandy, I didn’t mean-”

“No, just stop. I don’t care.”

Ian grabbed her hand, “Mandy, please let me explain.”

Mandy pulled her hand away, and turned to face Ian, “Look, it’s whatever. I’ll try not to get in your fucking business. I’m sorry I tried to help.”

“It’s just those pills. They’re-”

“I don’t give a fuck what they are, Ian. It’s not my business. I don’t want to be _goddamn nosy_.”

“They’re for my bipolar disorder,” Ian said, feeling the air leave his body completely. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he couldn’t just let Mandy think that Ian was mad at her, because he wasn’t. He was mad at himself. Now, he was terrified. He was terrified because he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t say he was joking, or anything like that.

Mandy stared at Ian now, her brow furrowed with confusion, “What?”

“I-” Ian tried to speak, but his mouth didn’t want to produce sound. Finally, after a few silent agonizing seconds, Ian said, “I am sick,” he then picked up the bottles and handed them to Mandy, “These are mood stabilizers and antipsychotics. They keep me mellowed out most of the time.”

Mandy stared at the contents in her hand, before saying, “C’mon.” She then grabbed Ian’s hand, and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Mandy, what are you doing?”

“Shut up,” Mandy rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind them, “Here, take your medication,” she said, handing Ian back the pill bottles.

Ian hesitated, before taking them. He walked over to the sink and took his pills, while Mandy watched him with her back leaning up against the door. When he finished, he turned to face her.

“Better?”

Ian shrugged, not really knowing what to say. He was still very confused at what was going on, “Uh, I guess.”

“You wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why were you so scared to let me touch your pills?”

“I just didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? That you had bipolar disorder?”

Ian nodded his head.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d judge me.”

Mandy stared at Ian harder, as if she were trying to figure something out. She crossed her arms, “Why would you think I’d judge you?”

“I don’t know,” Ian admitted, “Sometimes it warps people’s opinions of me. They think just because of my disorder, I’ll flip out and do something crazy.”

“And you think I’m going to do that to you?”

Ian shrugged, “I never know how someone’s going to react. Sometimes I feel like my own family is judging me. It’s like they’re waiting for me to mess up. They think I’m like my mom.”

“Your mom had the same thing. I remember you telling me that.”

“Yeah,” Ian nodded, letting his head drop. He felt tears well in his eyes, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not really knowing what he was apologizing for.

Mandy shook her head slowly, before going over to Ian and hugging him. She let Ian wrap his arms around her waist, and bury his face in her shoulder, “Hey,” she said softly, when she felt Ian’s tears dampen her shirt, “Don’t apologize, ok? You don’t have anything to apologize for. Do you hear me, Ian? Don’t apologize for existing. You’re doing your best, you’re trying. Anyone who doesn’t want to deal with that can fuck off.”

Ian pulled back and sniffed, “Thank you,” he said.

Mandy smiled at him, “You’re my best friend, Ian. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Ian laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, “Mind doing me a favor though?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell your brother.”

Mandy furrowed her brow, “Mickey doesn’t know?”

Ian shook his head, “No, I haven’t told him yet.”

Mandy blinked at him in surprise, “You don’t actually think he’d judge you for that, do you?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve heard him say some stuff before, and I don’t know. I just don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Ian, you know you have to tell him eventually, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Mandy looked as if she were going to say something else, when someone knocked hard on the door, causing both Mandy and Ian to jump.

“What?” Mandy snapped.

“Hey, have you seen Ian?” Mickey questioned.

“Yeah, he’s in here with me.”

“What the fuck are you two doing in the bathroom together?”

Mandy rolled her eyes, before saying, “I’m blowing him.”

“Yeah right, bitch,” Mickey scoffed, and then said, “Ian, you ready to go?”

“Yeah, Mick,” Ian said, and then handed his medication to Mandy, “Put these in my overnight bag for me? It’s next to Mickey’s bed.”

Mandy nodded, before grabbing the pill bottles, “Sure. Remember what I said though. You can’t keep this from him forever.”

Ian stared at Mandy for a moment as he let her words wash over him. She was right, of course. One day Ian will slip up, and Mickey wouldn’t know what to do, “I know,” he said, with his hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, and, Ian,” Mandy said, before Ian opened the door.

“Yeah?”

“If you ever call me nosey, or talk to me like you did again, I’ll shove my entire foot up your ass.”

Ian gave Mandy a little smile, “I don’t doubt it,” he laughed, before exiting the bathroom.

“You finished gossiping with my sister?” Mickey teased from the couch.

Ian smirked, and made his way over to Mickey, “Yeah, we were talking about you.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow in mock offense, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup.”

“What about?” he asked, pulling Ian into his lap.

Ian gasped, before settling his legs on either side of Mickey, “Nothing you need to worry about,” Ian murmured, dropping his head to kiss along Mickey’s neck.

“If it’s about me then I should worry,” Mickey teased some more, wrapping his arms around Ian’s waist.

“I guess,” Ian sighed, coming back up to rub Mickey’s nose with his, “I was telling her how sweet, and affectionate, and kind you were. How much I love being around you.”

Mickey pulled back to look at Ian with surprise, “Really?”

“Nah, I was actually telling her how you fart in your sleep.”

Mickey laughed and pushed Ian off, causing him to land next to Mickey with a thud, “I do not.”

Ian was laughing now too, holding his sides, “Do too.”

“Are we leaving or not?” Mickey grumbled, getting up from the couch, “I wanna get this whole wedding bullshit over with as soon as possible.”

“Sure, sure,” Ian said, as his laughter died down. He then got up and left out the door with Mickey.

When they arrived at the Alibi, Ian didn’t even get ten steps in, before Kev looked up and noticed the cut on Ian’s cheek.

“Woah, slugger,” Kev said, causing both Tommy and Kermit to look at him, “The fuck happened to you?”

Before Ian could answer, Mickey said, “He got into a fight with someone.”

Ian raised his eyebrow at Mickey, as if to say, ‘What are you doing?’

“No shit?” Kev laughed, “Happen around here?”

Now, it was Ian’s turn to come up with something. He quickly answered with a shake of his head, and then said, “Some asshole at a club got too handsy.”

“Milkovich didn’t try to protect you?”

“Mickey wasn’t there. I was out with some friends,” Ian said easily, which earned him a look of admiration from Mickey. Ian was a world class liar; all the Gallagher siblings were. He looked over at the three men at the bar, who clearly bought into Ian’s tale. However, when he looked over at V, she didn’t seem very convinced.”

“You must have been pretty upset when you found out,” she said to Mickey.

Mickey’s face went hard, “Yeah, I fucking was. If I were there, they’d be wrapped up in a body bag.”

Ian felt a cold shiver run up his spine because he knew that was true.

V stared at Mickey for a moment, and then she looked to Ian, who was now staring at the floor. She folded here arms, “I bet you would have.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes at her, as if to say, ‘What do you mean by that?’

Kev, who was clearly oblivious to the exchange, said, “So, what are you guys drinking? Your usual?”

“We’re actually not staying,” Ian said, before looking to V, “but I need to ask you a question.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Well, you remember my sister, right?”

“Oh, the radio destroyer?” Kev scoffed.

V rolled her eyes, “Zip it, Kev, that was an accident.”

“More like a blessing,” Tommy pointed out, and Kermit nodded his head in agreement.

“Anyway,” Ian butted back in, “she’s getting married at the end of this month, and she’s shopping for her wedding dress today. Her bridesmaids ditched her last minute, so Mickey and I were heading down to the dress shop to help her out.”

“Milkovich in a dress shop? Are pigs flying?” Tommy laughed.

Mickey, who had his arms folded, turned his head to look at Tommy, “I don’t know, Tommy. Why don’t you climb up to the roof, jump, and find out?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to come with us, y’know? You’d be more resourceful to Fiona than we would. Also, it’d make her feel better with another girl there. My other sister and her daughter are coming by later, but Fiona doesn’t have a lot of friends, and she could use all the help she can get.”

V blinked in surprise before saying, “I mean, I guess I could do that. Would it be ok with your sister?”

“Yeah, it was her idea.”

“Well, shit yeah, I’ll go,” she said, stepping out from behind the bar.

“V,” Kev said incredulously, “you’re just going to leave me here at the bar alone?”

“To go to a fancy dress shop on the north side? Fuck yeah, I am. Don’t wait up.”

“What if we get a rush?”

“On a Wednesday night? I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” she said, walking towards the exit, “Let’s go, boys.”

Ian shrugged at Kev, before following V and Mickey out to his car.

When they all got settled in with Mickey in the passenger seat, and V in the back. V tapped Ian on the shoulder, causing him to turn around, “Can I ask you something, Ian?”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Sure?”

“Did you really get that cut from a bar fight?”

“What?”

“Did you get that cut from a bar f-”

“You don’t have to answer that, Ian,” Mickey assured, his voice hard and protective.

“It was just a question, Mickey.”

Mickey turned around to look at her, “I don’t give a fuck what it was. Don’t ask people shit when it don’t involve you.”

“Mickey,” Ian sighed in exasperation.

V raised her eyebrow at Mickey, “Was I askin’ you? Last time I check, Ian was a grown man who could speak for himself.”

Mickey kept his eyes on V for a moment longer, until he huffed out an incredulous laugh, “You think I hit him,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“No, actually, I don’t. But I think you know who did.”

“So fucking what if I do?”

V shrugged, “I just don’t know why you’d lie.”

“Maybe because it isn’t any of your fucking business,” Mickey gritted out.

“You’re right, it isn’t my business. But I’m worried about him, and I just thought I’d ask.”

“Well, next time keep your worries to yourself.”

V looked to Ian, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’ll always be here if you need to talk.”

Ian took a while before he said anything. When he did, it was like jumping into a cold lake. His skin vibrated with tense unfamiliarity, as he uttered the words, “It was my dad.”

Mickey’s mouth formed a tight thin line, as his jaw tensed.

Ian felt the words weigh heavy on his tongue. He’d never really admitted that to anyone outside of his family, or Mickey. Suddenly, Ian wanted to take what he said back. He didn’t know why, but it felt like admitting his father physically hurt him was wrong. It felt like he was supposed to keep it a secret, but he opened his mouth and ruined everything. And, for some strange reason, it felt like he betrayed Frank. Though, Ian had no idea why Frank’s reputation should matter to him. It all just felt wrong. Ian tried to explain, “He was drunk. He came home late, and he was hammered,” Ian let out a humorless laugh, running a shaky hand through his hair, “He didn’t even know my name, he was so drunk. I tried to keep him from going upstairs. My nine-year-old brother and my three-year-old niece were asleep up there, and I didn’t want them waking up and seeing him like that or get in his way. He’s a fucking asshole when he drinks. Though, that’s kind of a meaningless thing to point out since he’s drunk all the time. When I tried to stop him, he backhanded me. The hand he backhanded me with had a ring on it, and that’s what cut me.”

At this point Ian was looking at his hands, but when he looked back up, he saw V and Mickey staring at him. They weren’t the sympathetic eyes he was expecting, but instead they were angry. They looked vengeful.

There was a strong silence that hung in the air, and Ian held his breath, waiting for the obvious, ‘why didn’t you hit him back?’ but it never came. Ian was glad for this because he wouldn’t know how to answer that. He could have if he wanted to, but Ian just let Frank be. He didn’t know if it made him weak for not standing up for himself, or if it made him strong for not sinking to his father’s level. So, there was relief in the fact V didn’t question his ability to stand up to Frank, but it then made Ian wonder why she didn’t.

Instead of questioning him in any way, V stayed silent and so did Mickey. Come to think of it, Ian didn’t remember Mickey questioning his decision either. Maybe it was because Mickey and V understood, in some way or another. Ian definitely knew Mickey did. So, there wasn’t a conversation beyond that because there was nothing else to be said. And to Ian, their collective silence spoke more to him than anything they could have said in that moment to try to make him feel better. In regard to what happened to Ian, they just got it. And Ian was grateful for that.

V then cleared her throat, “Do your siblings know about this?”

“Not this recent time, but they know how Frank can be. I lied to them, but I don’t think they bought it. Please don’t tell my sister, she has enough to worry about. Also, Lip would freak if he knew, and he just got back to normal. Plus, I don’t want my brother or my niece to see what Fiona and Lip would do to Frank if they found out. I just want it to go away. I don’t want it to be a big thing.”

V and Mickey shared a look, and for a second, Ian thought they’d deny his request, but then they looked at him and nodded.

“Good,” Ian sighed, feeling a huge weight lift off his shoulder. In all honesty, he was glad V knew. It was one less person to lie to, “let’s get going then,” and with that, Ian turned around, put his car in drive, and drove off.

The rest of the car ride was silent. This didn’t faze Ian, because he knew their conversation before had caused a damper on the mood. When they arrived at the shop, Mickey was the first to break the silence.

“Wow, I guess millennials really did kill the wedding industry,” he muttered, looking around at the empty shop.

Ian snorted out a laugh, “Fiona reserved the shop for the afternoon, so we have the place to ourselves.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “She rented out the whole place?”

“Holy shit,” V said under her breath, “how rich are you guys, exactly?”

“We live comfortably,” Ian shrugged, as he spotted Fiona and waved to her.

Fiona’s face broke out into a grin as she walked towards Ian, Mickey, and V. When she got to them, she pulled Ian into a hug, “Hey, Ian. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

Ian smiled and hugged his sister back, “No problem. You basically bullied me into it.”

Fiona rolled her eyes, pulling back from the embrace, “Oh, whatever, I did not.”

“Well, that’s what it felt like,” Ian teased.

Fiona shook her head in amusement, and then turned to Mickey, “Hey, Mickey, it’s good to see you again.”

Mickey nodded, giving Fiona a polite smile, yet he still looked a little nervous.

“And, V, I’m so glad you came,” Fiona grinned.

“Well, you can’t expect these boys to know anything about wedding dress shopping, right?”

Fiona nodded fervently, “Oh, I know. Speaking of,” she turned to Mickey, “Did Ian tell you when the boys are getting fitted for their tuxes?”

"Uh," Mickey blanked.

"I didn't, but we'll be there don't worry."

"I don't really own a tux," Mickey admitted, "I was just going to wear the suit I wore to my court hearing."

"Oh," Fiona said, before waving it off, "No big deal, just rent one."

Mickey looked uncomfortable, but stayed polite, much to Ian's surprise, "I don't really have the money for a tux."

"Then I'll rent you one."

"No, I think I'm good."

"Mickey," Fiona said carefully, "I'm renting you a tux."

Mickey was going to protest, but a look in Fiona's eyes told Ian that Mickey would be smart not to argue with her.

Ian turned to Mickey, "If it makes you feel better, she's using Frank's money."

"Yup," Fiona confirmed, "Everything is on Frank's dime."

"Well, that's a little better, I guess," Mickey muttered.

"So are you wearing you court hearing suit at Frank's party tomorrow?"

Mickey's eyebrows shot up, and he looked to Ian for an explanation.

Ian groaned, "Thanks, Fi. I hadn't had the chance to tell him yet."

"Tell me what?"

"So, y'know how I told you my dad throws these stupid parties for himself when he comes back from a trip, and that they're basically mandatory?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he's back, so yeah."

Mickey crossed his arms, "Ok."

"It's tomorrow night, but you don't have to go," Ian said quickly.

"Even though Frank wants to meet you," Fiona added.

"Why the fuck does he want to meet me?"

"He only wants to embarrass me. He'll probably find about twenty different ways to insult you before dessert. Which is why you don't have to go."

Mickey nodded, and then stood quietly for a moment, thinking it over. Finally, he said, "I'll go."

Ian's eyes widened, "You sure?"

Mickey must have saw the fear in Ian's eyes, because he then said, "Calm down, Gallagher. I'm not going to beat the shit out of him... yet. Besides, you're always over at my place. It'd be good for me to spend some time at yours, right?"

Ian was still unsure, but he nodded anyway, "Sure, I guess."

Mickey rolled his eyes, "It'll be fine. Now, let's go try on some dresses, or whatever."

Fiona clapped happily, and then led them to the fitting rooms.

There were a lot of dresses Fiona tried on that Ian liked. Though, other than giving his sister a thumbs up or a thumbs down, he didn't really have any commentary to add, which was why he was glad they brought V along. Ian watched the two women, as they talked about dresses and themes, and other stuff like that. They talked like they were old friends, and Ian liked that. He liked that Fiona was spending time with someone who wasn't after her money. V was a good person, and Ian wouldn't mind at all if they became friends.

After an hour or so, Debbie walked into the shop, with one hand full of shopping bags, and the other was holding Franny’s hand.

Franny scanned the store, before spotting Fiona, Ian, and the rest of the group. She pulled away from her mother and sprinted towards the others, “Aunt Fi, Uncle Ian!” she sang out happily.

“Hey, there’s my favorite niece,” Ian said, before crouching down to take Franny into his arms.

Franny giggled as Ian picked her up and tickled her.

Debbie made her way over to everyone, before setting her bags down on one of the chairs, “Sorry we’re late,” she sighed, taking off her Gucci sunglasses, “Franny and I were Fall shopping. She needs a whole new wardrobe since she’s starting preschool this year.”

Ian gave his sister a strange look, “It’s the last day of July, Debs. You need to go school shopping now?”

“Does Debbie ever need a reason to shop?” Fiona rolled her eyes.

“A lot of Fall collections roll out at the end of July. You want to get in early, or all the good stuff will be gone.”

“And you just so happened to pick today to go shopping? Yeah, really convenient,” Fiona scoffed.

“Fi, I told you, I forgot. I’m here now, see? Besides, I didn’t know all your friends were going to ditch you last minute.”

“Uncle Ian,” Franny said, gently touching Ian’s cheek, “Does your booboo feel better?”

“It does.”

“Christ, Ian,” Debbie said, looking at the cut on his face, “Fiona told me you fell and cut your cheek, but she didn’t say how bruised it was.”

Ian shrugged, “I’m fine, Debs, really.”

Debbie gave Fiona look, who just rolled her eyes.

“He wouldn’t tell me anymore either,” she said lowly to Debbie.

Debbie nodded to Fiona, and then turned to Mickey and V, who were standing off to the side, “Hi,” Debbie said cheerfully, “I’m Ian’s younger sister.”

“Veronica, but you can call me V,” V said, shaking her hand.

Debbie smiled at her, and then looked to Mickey, “And I guess you don’t need an introduction.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Huh?”

“Ian talks about you all the time, you’re basically family.”

Mickey looked to Ian with a smirk, and then said, “Yeah, I heard he can’t keep his mouth shut about me.”

“It’s actually super sweet,” Debbie said, “We’ll be in the kitchen eating dinner, and Ian will just go on about, ‘oh, you’ll never guess what Mickey said to me,’ or, ‘Mickey did the cutest thing today.’ He likes you a lot. He’s totally been all over you since you guys first hooked up at the beginning of summer. Ever since it’s just been Mickey this and Mickey that. I haven’t heard Ian obsess over someone this much since-”

“Ok, Debs,” Ian cut in, his face as red as a tomato. He then put Franny down, who continued to stay by Ian, hugging onto his leg.

Franny stared up at Mickey quizzically, and Mickey stared back at her with the same expression.

“Is she just going to keep staring at me, or?”

“Franny,” Ian said, petting the top of her head, “This is Mickey. He’s, uh… he’s my special friend. Can you say hi to Mickey?”

“Hi Mickey.”

Mickey smiled at her, and crouched down to Franny’s level, “Hi, Franny. It’s nice to meet you,” he said holding out his hand.

Franny was a little reluctant, but then shook it. She then peered at the tattoos on his knuckles, “Ooh, pretty letters. I like your letters, Mickey.”

Mickey laughed a little, “Thanks.”

“Ok, everyone,” Fiona clapped her hands together, “Let’s get on with this. I want to show you some other dresses I’ve found,” she said, before disappearing in the dressing room.

The rest of the evening went on fairly well. Debbie eventually had to take Franny home, and put her to bed. Fiona and V decided to stay a little longer, and then hit a few bars together, before calling it a night. Fiona told Ian she’d get V back home, so he and Mickey were allowed to leave if they wanted to.

After saying goodbye to everyone, Ian and Mickey left the dress shop, with Ian’s arm wrapped around Mickey’s waist. It made Ian giddy to see Mickey finally comfortable with public displays of affection. Though it made Ian think about their relationship in general. What were they? Ian remembered Mickey saying they were going to take it slow, but with everything going on, Ian didn’t know where they stood anymore. It was kind of making Ian frustrated.

When the got to Ian’s car, Mickey pulled away to walk over to the passenger side. Before he could, however, Ian gabbed his hand.

Mickey looked to Ian with a confused expression, “Yes?”

Ian didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he was. What if Mickey rejected him again? There was so much doubt running through his mind, he didn’t even realize the words he said, before they came out of his mouth, “I have to ask you something.”

Mickey furrowed his brow even further, before Ian let his hand go. He crossed his arms, “Ok?”

Ian let out a shaky breath, “I know this might be a strange time to ask, but it’s been a while and we haven’t talked about it much. I guess what I’m trying to ask, Mickey, is are we a couple or not? And when I say couple, I don’t mean like casually dating, but being together. Y’know, exclusively? Are we like, I don’t know, boyfriends?”

Mickey’s confused face soon turned into one of relief, “Shit, Gallagher, that’s what you wanted to ask? You had me fucking worried for a second.”

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I mean shit, man,” Mickey interrupted, “What kind of stupid question is that?”

Ian felt his heart sink a little, before hanging his head to rub at the back of his neck. He kind of felt like crying, until Mickey spoke up again.

“Of course, we’re fucking boyfriends, Ian.”

Ian’s head snapped up to see a gentle smile on Mickey’s face. Ian blinked at him, “What?”

“Yeah, man. I thought it kinda went without saying. You always knew where we stood. I didn’t think I had to tell you.”

Ian laughed a little, “You’re such a bastard.”

Mickey shrugged, “I might be, but this bastard is all yours.”

Ian grinned at Mickey, before pulling his boyfriend into a kiss. He couldn’t believe it. After all these months, Mickey was finally his. And Ian would never let him go.


	15. Dinner With The Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost nothing to report other than I once again have taken too long to update. I also think some of you will be disappointed if you were expecting a certain confession from Ian, but I promise that is coming very soon. Like, next chapter soon. Anyway, we got chapter warnings, which are : domestic abuse, child abuse, mentions of child abuse. Yeah, this one's kinda heavy. Anyway, like always thank you for your comments and kudos. And thanks for reading!

Mickey tucked his shirt in for what was maybe the fifth time in the span of an hour. He had gone through a multitude of clothing changes just in the time Ian was in the bathroom alone. However, despite being completely indecisive about every decision he was making tonight, he final settled on his black dress pants, his black button up shirt, and black loafers. His dark hair was neatly slicked back, and he was wearing his special cologne, which he only used for certain occasions. 

He fiddled with his hair a little bit, trying to distract himself until Ian came out of the bathroom. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Ian’s family, but the whole situation made him nervous. He didn’t really care what Ian’s father, Frank, had to say about him, but now that he and Ian were dating, the opinions of Ian’s siblings became especially important to him. He knew he’d made a good impression with Ian’s sisters, and Lip and he were actually on pretty good terms, and Ian assured Mickey that Carl didn’t hold anything against him. That just left Ian’s youngest brother, Liam, but Mickey wasn’t too worried about messing that up, considering he was only nine.

There was also the issue of Frank, actively inviting him to this family dinner, when Ian said he only did it to embarrass them. Mickey was still seething from when Frank hit Ian. So, being in the same room with the guy who slapped his boyfriend, and who was also going to be trying to insult him, might not be the best thing for Mickey’s anger management issues. But he’d suck it up for Ian. The stupid fucking parties were mandatory, and if Mickey didn’t go, he didn’t want Frank to take that as an act of defiance and go after Ian even harder than before. Because Mickey wasn’t lying when he said he’d kill Frank if it happened again.

Also, if he were truly honest with himself, maybe there was a little bit of self-doubt. Mickey had never been invited anywhere on the Northside, and he definitely didn’t have friends that lived there. When Ian came over, he never made Mickey feel bad for what he didn’t have, or what he didn’t know. He always adapted to Mickey’s ways and surrounding, while Mickey didn’t have to worry about having to do anything similar. But now Mickey was going to Ian’s house. Ian’s big fancy house, with his big, rich, and educated family. He had no idea about what to say or how to act. Between that and Frank doing his best to make him look like some criminal scum that Ian dragged in from the street, Mickey couldn’t help but feel anxious. Even though the worst thing he could do, was show Frank Gallagher any type of weakness. Mickey knew how that would turn out. Frank would try and eat him alive. And Mickey would rather go back to prison, than let that cocky fuck have the chance.

With a sigh, Mickey reached up to mess with his hair again, when he saw Ian coming up behind him in the mirror. Mickey felt a little hitch in his breath, when he saw Ian in a dark green button up, and black skinny jeans.

“Hey,” Ian said, kissing the side of Mickey’s neck.

“Hey, yourself,” Mickey grinned, bringing his hand up to cup Ian’s jaw, as he watched Ian continue to kiss and nuzzle his neck.

“I like the outfit.”

“You do?” Mickey asked, and then mentally smacked himself for sounding unsure.

“I do.”

Mickey couldn’t contain the blush that formed on his cheeks. He was all new to this, and by this, he meant being a boyfriend.

He never got to do the whole dating thing, even when he was pretending to be straight. There wasn’t a lot of dating around Mickey’s neighborhood. Usually, it was quick fucks after curfew, or blowjobs behind the bleachers. Even if he did manage to get a girl interested in him enough to sleep with him twice, he’d never gone on a date with them, let alone meet their family. Svetlana was a different situation, because one day she wasn’t there, and the next day she was. Then they were married. Then came prison, and Yevgeny, and then he came out. Then he got out, and dating wasn’t even an option anymore, because he had a son and a job. That was all he had. Well, until Ian.

Ian changed everything for him. Just like after Yevgeny was born, something in his mind reset. Something told him, that he wasn’t just some punk from the streets. He was a father. And now, he was a boyfriend. Now, he had to adjust to a whole new set of rules. A set of rules Mickey never even dabbled in. He had to learn how to be a partner to someone, where it didn’t involve scheming and making money. The only thing he knew about romantic relationships were what he saw in shows and movies.

It was a lot to handle. And, yeah, Mickey was afraid. He was even terrified, which wasn’t an emotion Mickey liked to associate with. But he had Ian. He could do anything if Ian were right there with him.

Mickey met Ian’s eyes in the mirror, and he saw Ian furrow his brow.

“What’s wrong?”

Mickey tore his gaze away. Ian must have realized how scared Mickey looked. “Nothing,” he coughed into his hand.

Ian tightened his grip on Mickey’s waist, “Mick.”

“What?” he snapped.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Jesus, Gallagher. Why does everything always have to turn into a therapy session with you?”

“It’s not a therapy session, Mickey. I just asked if something was wrong. And judging by how you’re acting, I think there is.”

“How I’m acting?”

“Yeah, you always act like a giant asshole, when you want to hide your feelings.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey grumbled, but he didn’t sound as threatening as he wanted to. Also, letting Ian still hold him from behind probably didn’t help either.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re having dinner with my whole family tonight. Maybe tone down the melodrama.”

“Right, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” Mickey spat back, finally pulling out of Ian’s arms. He then went over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Oh,” Ian mumbled, seeming to have figured it out.

Mickey just stared at the ground when he felt the bed dip beside him.

“Mickey,” Ian said, letting his hand slip behind Mickey to rub his back.

“Yeah?” he murmured, letting his eyes slip shut. He loved when Ian ran his hands up and down his body. Even if it wasn’t in a sexual way. Ian gave the best back rubs.

“I’m scared too.”

Mickey opened his eyes then and looked to Ian, “Who said I was-”

“It’s ok,” he said, cutting Mickey off, “It’s ok to be scared. I’m basically throwing you in the middle of the ocean surrounded by sharks. I know meeting your boyfriend’s family is a big deal, and honestly I would have wanted it to be under different circumstances, but I think you’ll do great.”

“I’m not like you though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rich.”

“Oh.”

“Or educated, or politically correct, or any of that shit, Ian. I don’t know how to act at dinner parties.”

“Just be yourself, Mick.”

“Sure, and have your fuck head dad pick at me, like he’s examining some kind of experiment under a microscope.”

“Don’t let Frank get to you.”

“I’m not. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want to feel, I don’t know. Less than?”

Ian stared hard into Mickey’s eyes, before gently grabbing his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss.

Mickey relaxed and leaned into the kiss. He felt immensely better somehow, but it always felt that way when he was with Ian. Mickey didn’t know why, and he wasn’t going to question it. He just knew that Ian grounded him and kept him from flying off the rails. Which was why he’d definitely need Ian if he were going to make it through tonight.

When they separated, Ian smiled, letting his thumb rub at the corner of Mickey’s mouth, before pulling away completely. He then got up from the bed, “Well, I’m ready if you are?”

Mickey nodded, still feeling a little dizzy from the kiss. Though he soon gained control of himself, and then got up too, following Ian out into the living room.

They cut off all the lights, since everyone was out either working, or doing whatever the fuck else, Mickey didn’t know. Finally, they left out the front door and made their way to Ian’s car. That was when Mickey heard it.

“So, you two are leaving? Got big gay boy orgy to go to?” questioned a familiar feminine voice.

 _‘Fuck me,’_ Mickey thought bitterly, wondering how long she’d been waiting out here. He groaned, “Oh, you’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

Svetlana walked slowly up to them, looking as calm as ever, yet there was something off about her.

Mickey couldn’t quite place it, but he felt a shift in the air, when he saw the collected look on her face. He watched her as she made her way to them, and when she did, Mickey eyed her up and down, “The fuck are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What?”

“Are you going to rainbow orgy?”

“No,” Mickey snapped.

“Then you watch Yevgeny tonight?”

“What?”

Svetlana seemed impatient, when she said, “Do you have a hearing problem? Will you watch-”

“I fuckin’ heard you the first time,” he gritted out, feeling the start of a fight coming on, but then he looked to Svetlana’s car and saw Yevgeny staring at them through the window. Mickey then decided to calm himself down, as he turned back to Svetlana, “Not tonight,” he said again, this time with a little less anger, “we’re going to Ian’s house for a family dinner.”

“Then he can stay here with your family until you get back.”

“No one’s home.”

“Then you can take him with you, no?”

Mickey looked back to the car, and before he could say anything, Ian spoke up.

“Of course, he can come. I’ll just have to call, so they can set up a place for him.”

“See,” she said to Mickey, “orange boy problem solves. You? You are just problem.”

“Don’t start with me.”

“So, this is yes then? You watch Yevgeny?”

Mickey breathed in deeply, and then let it out through his nose, trying to calm himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with his son, but Svetlana was always doing this. It pissed him off. Mickey folded his arms over his chest, “You sure you can’t get anybody else to watch him tonight?”

“Yes, I am sure,” she said, looking down at the ground. She seemed very focused on not looking Mickey directly in the eye.

“What about your fuckhead boyfriend?”

“He is gone,” Svetlana said, and her voice was hard and angry.

“Why?”

Svetlana looked back up at them, her eyes furious, “Because he hurt our son.”

“What?!” Mickey didn’t even think, before he was stepping up to Svetlana. He felt Ian hold him back, and he took a deep breath. He couldn’t stop all the questions running through his head. The anger he felt. It was the same anger he felt when he found out about his dad and Mandy, or with Ian and his dad. He felt like he could rip someone’s throat apart. No one fucking touches his kid. No one.

Mickey stared Svetlana down, as he tried to keep his voice calm, “How?”

“We were arguing, and it woke him up. He came into bedroom when Yvon hit me and grabbed my throat, so Yevgeny ran up and punched him in the stomach. Yvon grabbed him by the arms and shook him. I then hit Yvon in back of head with beer bottle. He is gone now.”

“When the fuck did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“And you didn’t fucking call me?!”

“I took care of it.”

“Fuck!” Mickey swore, wanting to hit something. He couldn’t believe Svetlana would act so careless, “I fucking told you! I told you to get rid of his ass, because Yev might get hurt, and look what happened!”

“Mickey,” Ian said, in his ear, “calm down.”

Mickey whirled on him, “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. This is my kid.”

“Our kid,” Svetlana corrected him.

Mickey turned back to her, “You shut the fuck up. You let your asshole abusive boyfriend put his hands on him. You’re his mother. You’re supposed to protect him!”

“I did!”

“Bullshit! I goddamn told you what I’d do if I found out he hurt Yev! He’s a fucking dead man!”

“Yes, he is,” Svetlana said, causing Mickey to pause.

He stared at her for a moment, and then he realized why she looked so off. Mickey calmed down then, and cleared his throat, “Is Yev ok?”

Svetlana nodded her head, “He is. Now that Yvon is gone.”

“Good. We’ll take him tonight. Go do what you need to do.”

“Thank you,” Svetlana said with intense sincerity, before walking back to the car.

“Shit,” Mickey sighed.

Ian looked to him, “What?”

“She fuckin’ iced him.”

Ian furrowed his brow, “Ice, like she called the immigration police?”

“No, iced as in she fucking killed him, Ian.”

Ian’s eyes widened at that, “What?!”

“Keep your goddamn voice down.”

“What?!” he whispered harshly, “What do you mean she killed him? How do you know that? How-”

“Shut up,” Mickey whispered back, “Here comes Yev.”

Mickey crouched down as he watched his son get out of the car.

Yevgeny ran up the walkway and straight into his father’s arms, being scooped up immediately and pulled into a hug. Yevgeny buried his head in Mickey’s neck, before being picked up. He didn’t have to say anything for Mickey to understand what he was feeling.

“Hey, buddy,” Mickey murmured, petting his son’s head, “It’s ok, you’re safe now. Dad’s got you, Yevvy. It’s going to be ok.”

Yevgeny glance over at Ian, his brow furrowed, “Ian, what happened to your face?”

Ian touched the cut on his cheek, before saying, “I fell, Yev. I’m ok though.”

“Oh, Ok,” he said, before putting his face back in Mickey’s neck.

“Here’s his stuff,” Svetlana said, handing Yevgeny’s blue bag to Ian, “I must go now.”

“Mommy, don’t go back,” Yevgeny whined, lifting his head to look at his mother.

“I have to, Yevgeny. I will be back soon.”

“What if he’s there?”

“He isn’t,” Mickey said, “She’ll be ok.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” both Mickey and Svetlana said in unison.

Yevgeny seemed satisfied with this answer, but still his eyes dropped, “Ok,” he sniffled.

Svetlana gave Yevgeny a sad smile, lifting her son’s chin up gently to look into his eyes, “Оставайся в безопасности, мой детка. Я тебя люблю.” (Stay safe, my baby. I love you.)

“Я тоже тебя люблю, мама.” (I love you too, mama.)

“Here,” Mickey set Yevgeny down, “Why don’t you go inside, buddy. Let me talk to your mom for a second.”

“Are you guys gonna fight?”

“No,” Mickey said, “I promise.”

“Ok, bye mama,” Yevgeny said, hugging his mother one last time.

“Goodbye, my love. I will be back soon,” she whispered, and there was genuine heartbreak in her voice.

Yevgeny let go, and then went into the house.

When Mickey knew Yevgeny was out of earshot, he looked to Svetlana, “How long do you need me to keep him?”

“Through this week and the next. Maybe more. I cannot afford our place without Yvon. Today’s the first, and I don’t have the rent.”

“You gonna get evicted?”

“Probably. Though, I’m sure I can convince our landlord to let us stay. I can be persuasive.”

“Nah, fuck that. Just move back here.”

Svetlana raised an eyebrow, “This is joke?”

“No.”

“Is there room?”

“The couch is free. Well, Iggy usually takes it, but he passes out on the floor just as much. Also, I’m pretty sure you’d win if you fought him for it.”

Svetlana paused, as if she were carefully pondering Mickey’s offer, “I’ll think about this,” she said finally, “but Yevgeny must stay here for now.”

Mickey sighed heavily, scratching the back of his neck, “I know.”

“You won’t fight me on this?”

“Well, considering the other option is him being homeless, I don’t want to fight you on it.”

“Good,” she said, in a tone that conveyed that the conversation was over. And with that, she turned to leave.

“You ok?” Ian asked, not taking his eyes off the road as he watched Svetlana drive away.

“No,” Mickey said, also keeping his eyes on Svetlana’s car as it faded into the distance, “but I have to go inside and pretend to be.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Mickey looked over to Ian at the same time Ian decided to look at him, “Stay with me?”

Ian nodded, seeming to understand that they were going to have to skip Frank’s dinner. Ian then put his arms around Mickey and pulled him close. He let Mickey nuzzle his shoulder, while he dropped his head, mouth ghosting over Mickey’s ear, “You’re a good dad, Mickey.”

Mickey felt the onslaught of tears threaten to spill from his eyes. They burned hot as he blinked them away, causing a damp spot to form on Ian’s shirt. “I should have known,” he croaked out, “I should have been there to protect him. I should have been there for him. I should have been there for you too, and Mandy, and-”

“Stop,” Ian murmured, lifting Mickey’s chin, to look him in the eye, “please stop blaming yourself. Stop blaming yourself over things you couldn’t control.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mickey sniffed, “you got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about it spiraling out of control.”

Ian grimaced, “You’d be surprised.”

Before Mickey could ask what that meant, he felt Ian pull away from him and turn toward the house.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Mickey nodded and sighed, as he followed Ian into the house.

When Mickey entered the living room the lights were still off. Him and Ian did a quick scan around the room before Mickey looked up to see the dull light coming from the hallway. He nudged Ian with his elbow and pointed his head towards the light, which caused Ian to nod in response and follow Mickey into the hallway.

The door was cracked, and Mickey peaked through to see Yevgeny looking at one of the spiderman comics that Ian had brought over. Mickey watched his son stare intently at the book, as he knocked gently on the door.

Yevgeny looked up at his father and frowned, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Mickey said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Mickey looked back to Ian, “Maybe I should talk to him alone.”

Ian gave him a small smile, “No problem. I’ll be right out here.”

Mickey gave Ian a nod of appreciation, before turning back to Yevgeny and shutting the door behind him. “So,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “What are you reading?”

“Spiderman.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yevgeny sniffled, before reaching up to rub at his eyes.

“Shit, Yev,” Mickey sighed, before scooping his son up into his lap. He let his chin rest on the top of Yevgeny’s head, as he tried to sooth his now crying son.

“I want mommy.”

“I know you do,” he murmured into the tuffs of Yevgeny’s hair.

“When is she coming back?”

“I don’t know, buddy.”

“Is she gonna be ok?”

“Of course, she will, Yev.”

“Ok,” he said, and then went silent. It was quiet for a few minutes, before Yevgeny said, “I’m sorry I hit him.”

Mickey blinked in confusion, moving back to look Yevgeny in the eye, “What?”

“I punched Yvon in the tummy, and I didn’t mean to. I keep fighting even when you tell me not to. I’m bad,” he said, tears in his eyes.

Mickey shook his head quickly, “No, Yev. You stood up for your mom, even though you were scared. I am so proud of you,” he smiled, wiping the tears from Yevgeny’s cheek, “You’re a good kid.”

“’Thanks.”

“I just wish he didn’t put his hands on you. Are you ok?”

Yevgeny nodded slowly, “It was scary, but mom made him go away. She told me to wait in the bathroom, and I sang my special song, and I wasn’t scared anymore. Then when mom came, he was gone.”

Mickey nodded knowingly. When Mickey was still in prison, it was hard to be there for Yevgeny when things got rough at home. Between Svetlana and her job, and she and Yevgeny staying at the Milkovich house while Terry still lived there, and all the fucked up family stuff in general, Yevgeny would often visit Mickey with horror stories, that made Mickey want to tunnel out and escape. Instead, Mickey told Yevgeny that whenever he felt scared, to go find a quiet place to sit, cover his ears, and sing to himself until he felt safe again. It was something Mickey did when he was a kid. Though, when he’d sing to himself, it was usually something from Green Day, or Radiohead. Yevgeny’s ‘special song’ was some Russian song, that Mickey wouldn’t even pretend to know the lyrics to, but Svetlana would sing it to him when he was a baby.

“That it?”

Yevgeny looked down at his lap, “I got bruises on my arm.”

Mickey felt his temper flare up again, but he kept calm, because he didn’t want to scare Yevgeny. He wished Svetlana would have let Mickey get a piece of the guy before she went off and killed him. He gently set Yevgeny back on the bed, “Let me see.”

Yevgeny slipped his shirt off to reveal bruises on his upper arms.

Mickey inhaled sharply, letting his fingertips lightly brush his son’s arm. He pulled away when Yevgeny flinched. He could see where Yvon had grabbed him and broke the skin with his fingernails.

Yevgeny looked up at Mickey with a furrowed brow, “Don’t cry, dad.”

Was he crying? Mickey wiped at his eyes and found that he was. He couldn’t help it. Someone had hurt his son. His baby. And he couldn’t do anything about it. Mickey felt so helpless. “I- I’m sorry.”

Instead of saying something else, Yevgeny leaned over and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck to hug him.

Mickey hugged him back, burying his nose into his son’s hair, “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time in a whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“S’not your fault, dad.”

But it was, wasn’t it? He was supposed to be protecting his son. He should have gotten rid of that Yvon guy himself when he saw that Svetlana was getting abused. Though he knew she could usually handle it all herself, Mickey should have known Svetlana would be too stubborn and proud to ever ask for his help when it regarded her love life. He should have been more aware. Maybe spending so much time with Ian caused him to take his focus off his son, and now look what happened.

Mickey sighed, knowing that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Ian’s fault Mickey was a shit father. If anything, Ian’s helped him become a better man than he was.

Yevgeny pulled back, sniffling a little, “I got some snot on your fancy shirt. M’sorry.”

Mickey laughed a little, “It’s fine, Yev. I can clean it off.”

“Why are you wearing your fancy shirt anyway?”

“Well,” Mickey said, looking back to the door. He had almost forgotten Ian was out there waiting for them, “Ian and I were going to a dinner party.”

“Oh,” Yevgeny said, looking crestfallen, “did I make you late?”

“No, you didn’t. We’re not going.”

“Cus’ of me?”

“Well, yeah,” Mickey said carefully, “but that’s ok. I’d rather spend time with you and Ian here, then go to some party.”

“Was it a grown-up party?”

“Not exactly. We were going over to Ian’s house for a family dinner.”

Yevgeny’s eyes lit up, “Can we still go? I wanna go see Ian’s house!”

Mickey scratched the back of his head, “That might not be the best idea, Yev. Considering the past couple nights, wouldn’t you rather spend some time here?”

Yevgeny shook his head, “I wanna go to a fancy party at Ian’s house. I’m ready to go. I took a shower before we came here, so we can leave right now if you want. Please, can we go to Ian’s?”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, followed by Ian’s voice, “Hey, Mick. Can I come in?”

Mickey looked to Yevgeny, who gave him a silent nod of approval. “Yeah.”

Ian opened the door, with one hand on the knob, and the other had his phone up to his ear. He looked over at Mickey and Yevgeny, but soon his eyes went to Yevgeny’s arms, and a whole flurry of heart broken emotions flashed across his face. He soon snapped out of it and turned to Mickey. He lowered his phone and cleared his throat, “I got Lip on the phone. He wants to know if we’re going or not? I know that given the circumstances you probably don’t want to go out anymore, but I thought I’d ask,” he put the phone back up to his ear, “Yes, I’m still here. Yeah, I asked him.”

Mickey looked back to Yev, who was nodding his head fervently. Mickey sighed, knowing they didn’t really have any food to cook in the house, and maybe a night out would distract Yevgeny from the past few days. He looked back up to Ian, “Tell him we’ll still be there, but Yev is coming too.”

Ian mouthed silently, ‘Are you sure?’

Mickey nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Ian said into the phone, “Mickey’s son is coming too, so tell Sheila to set a plate. I-” Ian stopped short, “That is a good point,” he agreed, and then pulled the phone away, “Lip wants to know if you think it would be smart, considering Frank will be there trying his best to humiliate us? Our dinner parties can get kind of… intense.”

“Your brother and niece are gonna be there, right? Should be fine. Besides, Yev really wants to go.”

“I wanna see your house, Ian!”

Ian laughed a little at Yevgeny’s enthusiasm, before putting his ear back up to the phone, “Yeah, we’ll be there. Ok, see you soon,” he said, before hanging up.

“Guess we’re going,” Mickey said, getting up from the bed.

“Do I need fancy dinner clothes too?”

“Maybe put on your nice pants, and a shirt that doesn’t have a stain on it,” Mickey suggested.

“Ok!” he grinned, hopping off the bed. He went over to his dad and started pushing him to the door, “Out, out, out, I need to get dressed.”

“You’re so goddamn pushy,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “Just like your mom.”

“Your face is pushy,” Yevgeny retorted back.

When they were both finally in the hallway, and Yevgeny shut the door, Mickey looked to Ian, “What are the odds of Frank saying something about Yev, that makes me punch him in the throat?”

Ian shrugged, “I honestly wouldn’t worry about it too much. Frank usually leaves Franny and Liam alone when it comes to mocking us. He knows he gets the biggest reaction out of Fiona, me, and Lip. Odds are someone else will get to him before you do. But, if he does say something about Yev, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Ok,” Mickey sighed in relief, “he’s been through enough, and I don’t want your piece of shit dad making it worse.”

“I know, I… I saw his arms.”

Mickey’s jaw tensed, “Fucking piss you off, huh?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I wanted to fucking rip the guy’s head off when I saw it. Guess Svetlana beat me to it.”

“She didn’t really kill him, did she?”

“I’m about ninety-nine percent sure she did. Why do you care?”

“Because it’s murder, Mickey,” Ian whispered harshly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ian. Did you somehow get attached to a guy you’ve never met, who beat up his girlfriend, and attacked my _son_? Does that hurt your sensitive feelings? My fucking bad.”

Ian glared at him, “Oh, ok, sorry I’m not alright with murder, Mickey.”

“So, when you enlisted into the army, you were drawn to what? Their synchronized gun twirling routine?”

“That is not the same thing.”

Mickey lifted an amused eyebrow, “You’re right, it isn’t. Because Svetlana did what she did out of self-defense, whereas the military will murder women and children, and politicians will glamorize it by calling it patriotic.”

“You have a cabinet full of illegal firearms, and you want to talk to me about moral high ground? Was it patriotic when you almost ran out of here like a mad man, wanting to shoot my dad in the face?”

“Ok” Mickey held his hands up sarcastically, still keeping his voice low, “next time someone hits you, I’ll just act like it’s no big fucking deal. How about that?”

“Whatever. All I know, is that I don’t want to be an accomplice. What if the police find out, and then they find out that I know? What then? I’m not going down for that.”

“What are you going down for then?” Mickey smirked, not really knowing when their argument turned into something more teasing and playful.

Ian gave him a withering look, before pinching him on the side.

“Ow,” Mickey snapped, before lightly shoving Ian into the wall.

Ian shoved him back, and soon they were wrestling, neither of them really trying to hurt the other.

Mickey put Ian in a headlock, “C’mon, Army, that all you got? You fight like a fag.”

Ian quickly got out of it, turning around to pin Mickey’s wrists to the wall. He then closed in on Mickey, his breath fanning the shorter boy’s face, “and you fuck like a fag.”

Mickey wriggled a bit, before stopping to look up at Ian. Their noses gently touched, as Mickey’s lips grazed Ian’s.

Suddenly, the door swung open, causing both boys to move away from each other. They must have both been reminded that they were not alone, but in fact, in front of Yevgeny’s room, with Yevgeny inside, who was now on the outside, looking up at both of them quizzically.

Yevgeny opened his mouth to say something before Mickey stopped him.

“I know what you’re going to say, and no, we were not. Also, you still shouldn’t know what that is. Now, go get in Ian’s car.”

“You were thinking about it,” Yevgeny muttered, quickly moving before Mickey could say anything.

“This is gonna be a long fucking night,” he grumbled, moving past Ian, but was caught by Ian grabbing onto his hand and pulling him back around to face him.

“What the fuck, Galla-” Mickey was cut off by Ian kissing him. He moaned as he grabbed Ian by the waist, pulling him closer.

“Sorry,” Ian gasped out when he finally broke the kiss.

“Hell, definitely don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I mean I’m sorry for what I said. I know Svetlana probably didn’t have a choice.”

Mickey sighed, already tired, “It’s ok, Ian, really. I get it. You’re not used to this shit. If it makes you feel any better, you don’t have undeniable proof that she did it, so y’know maybe she told him to leave and never come back, and he was smart enough to listen.”

“Y’know you could at least try to sound convincing,” Ian said with a laugh.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

Ian nodded, and then followed Mickey out the door and to his car.

Mickey was quiet on the drive there.

Everything that had happened in the past couple of days were swimming around in his head. Ian, Yevgeny, Svetlana, all jumbled up messes invading Mickey’s thoughts. He felt so useless because that’s all he could do was think. He wasn’t there when Ian got hit. He wasn’t there for Yevgeny. It made him feel like a failure.

Though he couldn’t show that. Not to Ian, not to Yevgeny, not to anyone. He had to be strong, and just try better next time. So, he stayed silent, trying to ignore the feeling of anxiety and dread, by listening to Yevgeny and Ian’s conversation.

“So, do you have a butler?”

Ian laughed, as he kept his eyes on the road, “No, we don’t have a butler. We have a nanny though.”

Yevgeny scrunched up his nose, “Like nanny McPhee?”

“Nah, more like Mary Poppins, but without the powers. If you even know who that is.”

“I know who she is. But I don’t get it, Ian. Why do you need a nanny? Aren’t your brothers and sisters grown-ups?”

“She started working for us when I was fifteen, and my sister was the only one who was an adult. She’s been with us ever since.”

“Did you always have a nanny, Ian?”

Ian nodded, “As long as I can remember, anyway. My parents were gone a lot.”

“Did you miss them? I know I’d miss my mommy and daddy if they were gone a lot.”

Mickey watched Ian’s face carefully, and saw a pained look in his eyes, but kept the same warm smile he always had.

“Sometimes. I spent most of my time with my siblings though.”

“Are your siblings nice like you?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I like to think that they are. I think you’d really like my brother Liam. He’s a little older than you.”

Yevgeny was suddenly very interested in Liam and was the topic of his and Ian’s conversation for the remainder of the trip.

Ian also talked about his niece, Franny, and the rest of his siblings. He also talked about the playroom they had upstairs, and the in-home theatre downstairs, and that they could watch a movie after dinner, which caused Yevgeny to jump up and down in his seat with excitement.

Mickey smiled to himself, happy to see his son so excited. But that didn’t ease the knot in his stomach. Everything that had happened had really put him on edge. Now, he had to go have dinner with Ian’s family, and try not to knock Ian’s dad’s teeth down his throat.

When they arrived at Ian’s, Mickey obviously didn’t prepare himself enough, because his jaw literally dropped when he saw the house.

“Ian,” Yevgeny gasped, “you didn’t tell me you lived in a castle.”

Ian chuckled, “I wouldn’t call it a castle.”

“I would! That makes you a prince, Ian!”

“Guess that would make your dad my princess.”

“Yeah!”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not,” Mickey griped, but snuck a glance over at Ian to see that the fucker was staring at him all dreamily, “Can I help you?”

“What? You don’t want to be my princess?”

“Do you want to be pushed out of the car?”

Ian rolled his eyes affectionately, as he turned off the engine. He then got out of the car, with Mickey and Yevgeny following his lead.

Mickey looked around and saw a bunch of other nice cars. One he recognized immediately as being Lip’s. He let out a low whistle, “Damn, Gallagher, I feel like I’m at a swanky car dealership.”

“Oh, this is nothing. Wait until I show you the garage. A lot of sports cars.”

“Any of them yours?”

“Most of them are Frank’s. Some are Lip’s. I’m not really into cars,” Ian smiled at him, before saying, “You ready to do this?”

Mickey rolled his eyes like it was no big deal, “We’re going to dinner, Ian, not hell.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he said, as they started walking up to the front door.

“Anything I should expect?”

“Well, you’ve met all of my siblings except for Liam, so you should be fine conversation wise. Though, the Gallagher welcome home parties always have a predictable set of events. First, we’ll all sit down to eat, and then Frank will come in maybe ten minutes later. He’ll start trying to make us feel insecure about ourselves, and if he feels like it, throw in some blatant insults. He’ll try to embarrass me in front of you. It’s all about control and humiliation for him. Best thing to do is make it seem like your unbothered. Then one of us will get sick of it and cause a huge freak out, which will end dinner early. Sometimes we bet money on who it will be first. I won two hundred dollars one time from Fiona, because I predicted Lip would deck Frank in the face during Christmas dinner.”

“Wow,” Mickey said, as they stopped at the front door.

“Yeah,” Ian said with a rueful grin. He opened the front door, before saying, “Welcome to hell.”

Mickey stepped into the foyer with Yevgeny right behind him. He smiled down at his son and pet the top of his head.

“Ian, you’re here!” Came an excited feminine voice.

Mickey looked up just in time to see an older woman wrap Ian in a hug.

“Of course, Sheila,” Ian grinned, hugging her back, “I said I would be.”

Sheila stepped back and looked to Mickey, her smile widened, “And you must be Mickey!”

“Yeah, hi. How are-” Mickey was cut off by Sheila, giving him a bone crushing hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said, before letting him go. She then looked to Yevgeny, “And who is this little cutie?”

Yevgeny looked up timidly, “My name is Yevgeny, ma’am.”

“Well, that’s a fun name.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you are so polite.”

“So, what’s for dinner, Sheila?” Ian asked, shutting the front door.

“We’ll be having rosemary chicken with roasted potatoes, creamed spinach, and dinner rolls.”

Fuck that sounded good. Mickey was starving since he didn’t eat all day. He smiled shyly at Sheila, “That sounds really good. And thank you, y’know, for having us.”

“Well, aren’t you so sweet,” she looked over at Ian, “You know, I don’t know why your father was so worried about him. He seems like such a nice boy.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Oh, Frank had me put away the jewelry, and the small valuables, because he thought something might end up missing. Well, I told him he was just being silly.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who gave him a knowing look. He was about to say something when a timer suddenly went off.

“Oh, there are the rolls. I better go get those,” she said, and then scurried off.

After a few seconds of silence, Mickey asked, “Is she like… ok?”

Ian furrowed his brow, “How do you mean?”

“She’s runnin’ around like she just snorted an 8-ball.”

Ian laughed a little, “That’s just Sheila. She’s a little high strung, but she’s really nice.”

“I guess.”

“What? You don’t like it when people are nice to you?”

“She just told me she put away all your valuable shit, because she thought I’d steal something.”

“No, she said Frank thought you’d steal something,” Ian pointed out.

“Bet I could still make it out of here with some nice shit,” Mickey said, looking around the foyer.

“Hey, I’ll help you ransack Frank’s room if you want? He usually passes out drunk on the floor, so it’ll be easy.”

Mickey seriously considered it, but he had no idea if Ian were joking or not. He was going to answer when he felt something tug on his sleeve. Mickey looked down at Yevgeny, “What?”

“Are we gonna go eat now?”

“Dinner’s almost done,” Ian said, holding his hand out for Yevgeny to take, “C’mon, I want to introduce you to my family.”

Yevgeny looked a little apprehensive, which was the exact opposite of his excited demeanor before.

“C’mon, Yev,” Mickey gently nudged him toward Ian, “It’ll be fine.”

Yevgeny then took Ian’s hand, and let Ian lead him to the living room.

Mickey was close behind, with one hand on Yevgeny’s shoulder, letting his son know he wasn’t going anywhere. He knew Yevgeny could get really shy around new people.

The living room was beautiful, big, and it looked expensive. Mickey felt like he was doing something wrong by just standing there and breathing. He let his eyes scan over the room, where Ian’s siblings were already sitting and chatting.

Fiona was sitting on someone’s lap in the armchair, who Mickey remembered from the night Fiona was at the bar, as her fiancé. She was talking to Carl, and a girl Mickey didn’t recognize, holding a glass filled with what Mickey assumed was really expensive, shitty, champagne. Then, on the couch, was Lip, who was typing something on a laptop, while Debbie chatted away, both seeming too enthralled in what they were doing, to not notice the other probably wasn’t paying attention.

Mickey assumed they’d notice Ian come in, but they didn’t even glance in their direction. Mickey was about to say something, before Ian spoke up.

“Hey, assholes!” Ian shouted cheerfully, causing the entire room to look over at them.

A chorus of, “Hey, Ian!” came from all areas of the room.

Fiona got up first, and hugged him, before grabbing his jaw and examining the cut on his cheek, “This seems to be getting better. It’s still bruised.”

Ian pulled away from his sister, “Ok, thanks for the analysis, doctor.”

“I just want to make sure it’s healing alright. I don’t want it getting infected.”

“I’m fine, Fi. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Damn, you got cut pretty bad, didn’t you?” Fiona’s fiancé said, coming up to put his arm around Fiona.

“I’m fine.”

“He’s downplaying it.”

“Well, maybe don’t mother him,” he said with a laugh.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Ian said, before bumping fists with Jimmy, causing Fiona to roll her eyes.

“So, you fell on the bathroom sink?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a weird bruise,” Jimmy pointed out, but before he could go further, Ian changed the subject.

“Uh, Jimmy, this is my boyfriend Mickey. Mickey, this is Jimmy, my sister’s fiancé.”

“Sup,” Mickey said, shaking hands with Jimmy.

“And this is Yevgeny, Mickey’s son.”

“Hi, Yevgeny,” Fiona said sweetly, crouching down to Yevgeny’s level to shake his hand, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Yevgeny shook her hand, “Hi.”

Jimmy greeted him by putting out his fist for a fist bump, “What’s up, little man?”

Yevgeny returned the fist bump, and then shrunk back into Mickey.

“He’s a little shy.”

“He’s so sweet,” Fiona cooed, standing back up, “Liam should be down here with Franny any minute. Did Ian tell you about Liam, Yevgeny?”

Yevgeny smiled and nodded.

Lip was the next one to join them, “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

“Hey, Lip, what are you working on?” Ian questioned, looking over at the abandoned laptop on the couch.

“Oh, just some shit for school. I gotta go back next month.”

Mickey looked horrified, “You do schoolwork in the summer?”

Lip laughed a little, “Yeah.”

“That sounds like a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“Hey, I remember you,” Yevgeny piped up, “You work with my dad.”

Lip smiled at him, “I do. Glad you remember me.”

“Are you still mean to him?”

Lip looked a little sheepish, his ears turning pink, “Nope, we worked it out.”

Yevgeny looked up at his dad for conformation, and Mickey nodded.

“Yup, we’re good now.”

“Good,” Yevgeny said, “I’m glad you’re not a bully anymore.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find someone else to make miserable soon enough,” Fiona said under her breath, loud enough for Ian, Mickey, Lip, and Jimmy to hear.

“What was that, Fiona?” Lip asked with a smile, but his eyes said he was about two seconds away from smacking her.

“Nothing,” Fiona shrugged, and then continued to drink from her glass.

Mickey could tell there was definitely a fight going on between them, but he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t any of his business.

“Carl, you remember Mickey, right?” Ian said, addressing his younger brother, trying to change the subject, before Fiona and Lip killed each other.

Carl gave Mickey a head nod, and Mickey gave one back.

“And this is Yevgeny. He’s Mickey’s son.”

Carl gave Yevgeny a similar head nod, and Yevgeny gave one back, just like Mickey did.

“Ok, Jesus Christ,” Ian muttered, before turning to Mickey, “Mick, this is Kelly, Carl’s girlfriend.”

Kelly, the girl with short brown hair, standing next to Carl, shook Mickey’s hand.

“Great, I think that’s everyone except Liam and,” Ian looked around, “Where’d Debbie go?”

“I’m here,” Debbie said, coming down the stairs with Franny in her arms, “Someone didn’t want to get out of her princess dress. So, that’s what she’s eating in.”

“Uncle Ian,” Franny said excitedly, reaching her arms out to him, when Debbie got close enough.

“Hey Franny,” Ian grinned, taking her from his sister’s arms, “How are you today?”

“I’m a princess!”

“Yes, you are,” he said, before turning towards Mickey, “Franny do you remember Mickey?”

Franny nodded her head, and then waved, “Hi, Mickey.”

“Hey, kid, what’s up?”

Franny smiled at him, “Can I see your letters please?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, confused for a second, before he realized she was talking about his tattoo. He brought his hand up for Franny to see.

Franny pointed at each letter, sounding them out, “F. U. C-”

“Ok,” Mickey said quickly, pulling his hand away, “You can sound out letters. That’s great.”

Franny giggled, and Ian laughed as well, making his ears turn pink.

Thankfully, Liam finally came bouncing down the stairs when he noticed all of them standing together. He immediately ran up to Ian and hugged him.

Ian laughed, “Hey, man, what’s up?”

“I missed you.”

“I’ve been gone one day.”

“You’re not home as much anymore,” he said, pulling back.

Ian gave him a sad smile, “I know, man, I’m sorry, but I’m here now, and,” he said, motioning to Mickey, “I brought my boyfriend. This is Mickey.”

“Sup,” Mickey greeted. Ian had told him Liam was the only black kid in their family. Apparently, he was both Frank and Monica’s kid, which Mickey thought Ian was joking at first, but Ian swore he was telling the truth. Him and Lip had even gone out of their way to get a paternity test for Liam, when he was a baby, because at one point, Monica was trying to take him away with her whenever she’d run off on them. Ian and Lip were going to falsify the testing’s, when they surprisingly found out that they didn’t need to. Apparently, someone on their mom’s side was black, and the rest was genetics, Mickey guessed. He didn’t know a lot about that stuff.

“And this is Mickey’s son Yevgeny.”

Liam looked to Yevgeny, “Hi.”

“Yevgeny smiled back, “Hi.”

“I like your name, Yevgeny. Is it Russian?”

Yevgeny looked at him in surprise, “Yeah, it is. How did you know that?”

“Some kids at my school are Russian,” Liam shrugged.

“Hi, Yebyevy,” Franny tried to pronounce, “My name’s Franny.”

“You can just call me Yev,” Yevgeny smiled shyly.

“Yev!” Franny clapped her hands.

“Ok,” Fiona said, “Who’s ready to eat?”

Everyone all voiced their affirmations, and then let Fiona lead the way to the dining room. On the way there, Mickey passed a giant painted family portrait on the wall. He stopped for a moment to look at it. He found Ian immediately, with his then dark red hair, and goofy grin. Mickey smiled, and then looked at the other faces, until he found Monica, Ian’s mom. She was pretty, Mickey thought, even though he knew the kinds of things she was capable of. The kind of things Frank was capable of. He let his eyes linger on the photo a little longer, before leaving to catch up with the others.

The dining room was very beautiful, like the rest of the house. Mickey let Ian guide him and Yevgeny to their seats. The all sat down, and made small talk until finally, Frank made his grand entrance. And Mickey couldn’t help, but narrow his eyes, as the old man passed him.

“Hello, all,” Frank said, as he took a seat at the head of the table, and scanned the room, “Good to see everyone in attendance.”

Mickey knew that Frank was specifically talking about him and Ian, by the way his eyes lingered on them. Though he didn’t let it bother him, as he waited for the food to be passed out by Sheila. He thanked her when she got to him.

“Well, aren’t you polite,” Frank said.

Mickey looked up at him with a confused expression, “Excuse me?”

“Frank,” Fiona sighed, “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, Fiona? I’m just paying him a compliment.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you, Sheils,” Frank said, when she finished with his plate, “That’ll be all for now.”

Sheila didn’t seem bothered by Frank’s curtness, instead she smiled and waved goodbye to them, before leaving the room.

Mickey furrowed his brow, “She’s not eating with us?”

“The help eats in the kitchen,” Frank explained airily, “I’m sure you understand.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes, because was this guy serious? “No, I don’t,” he deadpanned.

“Sheila eats with us when Frank isn’t here,” Ian assured him, but was glaring daggers at Frank.

“She’s not a goddamn servant, Frank,” Fiona added on, stabbing her plate with her fork.

“Anyway, I’m happy you all could make it. Normally, we’d start off the discussion with what I’ve missed, but since we have new guests,” He said, looking pointedly at Mickey and Yevgeny, “Maybe they’d like to introduce themselves.”

“We already did introductions, Frank,” Ian said defensively.

“Well, I wasn’t introduced.”

“It’s fine, Ian,” Mickey said, before looking back at Frank, “I’m Mickey, and this is Yevgeny.”

“Yevgeny? What kind of name is that?”

Mickey didn’t even miss a beat, “Fuck you, is what kinda name it is.”

The rest of the table went shockingly stiller than it already was.

Frank didn’t seem affected by Mickey’s word, however, keeping his same calm tone from before, “It was just a question.”

“It’s Russian,” Yevgeny murmured softly, “I was named after my dedushka.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” Frank said, still in a stare down with Mickey.

“So, the wedding planning is going well,” Fiona cut in, “We’re getting married at the end of the month. So, Frank, if you want to come, clear your schedu-”

“So, where are you from, Mickey?” Frank asked, ignoring Fiona completely.

Mickey could see that Frank was planning on hounding him for the rest of the night. He wasn’t in the mood for it, but he promised he’d behave himself. Just get it over with, and Frank would leave them alone. That’s what Ian had told him when they were getting ready earlier that night.

It wasn’t that he was homophobic, Ian had explained, he actually couldn’t care less about Ian’s sexuality. It was all about control for him. Mickey could see that now, clearly, as he looked back at Frank, who hoisted himself high at the end of the table, like the ruler of the land. Mickey thought it was pathetic.

Instead of feeling intimidated, Mickey just felt annoyance when he said, “Southside.”

“I can tell,” Frank smirked, and then sipped his wine, “Where’d you get the knuckle tattoos from?”

“Prison,” Mickey said icily.

“Of course, you did. So, I’m assuming before your incarceration, you were in school? You certainly strike me as the educated type.”

Mickey let the words slide off him. He wasn’t going to let Frank win, “I didn’t go to college.”

“You at least graduated high school, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Mickey gritted out.

“Mickey actually works with me at the bike shop,” Lip pointed out, “He’s great with them. I’ve actually learned a lot from him.”

Mickey looked over at Lip in surprise. He wasn’t really expecting any of the Gallaghers to come to his defense. Because if they did, they’d have to deal with the consequences, not Mickey. So, Mickey appreciated that.

Frank rolled his eyes, “I’m sure knowing how to fix a motorcycle will get you far in life, Philip.”

Mickey was about to say something when he felt Yevgeny tap him on the arm. He looked down at his son, “What?”

“What is this, dad?” he questioned, poking at the cream spinach on his plate.

“It’s spinach.”

“It looks like barf,” Yevgeny muttered, poking at it again.

“Don’t say that, we’re guests here. Plus, it’s good. Eat it and you’ll grow up big and strong, like Popeye.”

“Who’s that?”

“Just eat it.”

Yevgeny grumbled something under his breath, as he scooped the spinach up with his fork.

“What’s that mumbles?”

“Mama doesn’t make me eat spinach.”

“Well, your mom ain’t here right now.”

“I know,” he huffed.

“So, you have a wife?” Frank interjected.

Mickey narrowed his eyes at Frank, “I’m divorced.”

“Must be difficult for your son.”

Yevgeny shook his head, “I live with my mom for one week, and then I go live with my dad for one week. I’m gonna be with my dad for a little while though, cus’ my mom went on a trip, but she’ll be back soon. She promised. I asked if I could go with her, but she said no. I think it’s a work thing. Cus’ I’m never allowed to go with her if it’s a work thing.”

Frank raised an eyebrow, “And what does your mother do?”

“She has sex with guys for money,” Yevgeny said innocently, like it was the most normal job in the world.

The room suddenly got very awkward. Mickey’s head snapped toward his son, “Jesus fucking Christ, Yev.”

“What?”

“Don’t say that.”

“But she does.”

“Yeah, and what do we tell people when they ask? Like your counselors or teachers?”

“Oh, yeah” Yevgeny nodded, like he just remembered, “she works in customer service.”

“Fucking hell,” Mickey muttered under his breath.

Frank laughed, looking to Ian, “You sure picked a winner with this one, son.”

Mickey looked to Frank, “The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Frank ignored Mickey’s question, and carried on with his interrogation, “Well, as interesting as all of this information is, I have to ask. What exactly are your intentions with Ian?”

Mickey blinked, “Like later tonight, or?”

That gained some muffled laughter from around the table, but Frank didn’t laugh, he just cleared his throat, and said, “Be serious, Michael. I don’t think it’s absurd for a father to care about his son’s partners.”

“Oh, god, Frank,” Debbie grumbled, at the same time Carl rolled his eyes.

“What? He’s had so many in the past, it’s been hard to keep count. I just want to make sure he’s safe. Especially, with someone who… runs in different circled, than us.”

Mickey scoffed, “First off, like you give a shit, man. You’re probably asking because you think I’m after his money or something. Second off, my name isn’t Michael.”

“It’s Mikhailo,” Yevgeny piped up.

Frank seemed interested now, “Oh, it is?”

Yevgeny nodded.

“That’s interesting,” Frank said, smirking at Mickey, “So, green card then?”

Mickey felt his temper flare, but he tried keeping his calm, “No, I was born here.”

“Are you an anchor baby? Because I don’t believe that counts.”

“Shut up, Frank,” Ian glared at him, as was the rest of the adults at the table.

“What’s that?” asked Yevgeny.

“It’s when immigrants who don’t have citizenship, have children in the United States. The baby becomes a citizen automatically because they were born here,” Liam explained.

“Am I one of those?”

“No,” Mickey said quickly, “your mom was a citizen before you were born. It wouldn’t matter if you were anyway, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Frank scoffed, looking to Ian, “Well, son, it seems like you’ve out done yourself. This one’s definitely a downgrade from your last boyfriend. What was his name? Caleb?”

Ian’s jaw was set so tight, Mickey was afraid it would break if he kept it that way.

“Frank, let’s talk about something else,” Fiona said suddenly, her face looking very worried.

“He was around for a while, yeah? What ever happened to him?”

“Frank,” Carl said, his tone matching his sisters.

Mickey carefully watched them. Obviously, something was going on that Mickey didn’t know about. It wasn’t any of his business. Whatever Ian had going on before they started dating, didn’t affect what they were now.

“Oh, I see,” Frank nodded his head slowly, “Nothing to worry about, son. We all have people who leave. Not many people can handle your Gallagher brand of crazy. Your mother would always drive men away too.”

It happened in an instant, and if Mickey would have blinked, he wouldn’t have seen it, but he did. The sheer look of panic on Ian’s face, and a shared glance between him and Lip, which seemed to be a short conversation of understanding for the two boys.

Suddenly, Lip blurted out, “I fell off the wagon recently.”

Frank looked over to Lip, caught off guard, “What?”

“Yeah,” Lip sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I slipped up. I just saw the bottle and y’know.”

Mickey knew instantly that Lip was covering for Ian, though he didn’t know what for. Whatever it was, it was private. Ian didn’t want anyone to know, so Mickey wouldn’t ask.

Frank rolled his eyes at Lip, “See, I told you that AA crap doesn’t work. You kids never listen to me, but I know what I’m talking about.”

“Whatever, Frank.”

“There isn’t anything wrong with drinking, you just need to learn how to navigate with it. Sometimes, I’ll get so drunk, I wont even remember the night before, but I always come out ok. Everyone’s fine, no one gets hurt.”

“Except for when you backhand your son,” Mickey sneered, and he didn’t even realize he said it, until everyone was looking back at him in confusion and shock. _‘Shit,’_ Mickey thought, looking to Ian, who was looking back at him with wide eyes, “I mean,” he tried to backtrack, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

It was evident then that Fiona was starting to put the pieces together. She looked at Ian’s face, and then at Frank, and then at his hand with the ring. She looked back up to Mickey, her jaw set, and eyes angry, “Mickey, was Ian lying about hitting his face on the sink?”

Mickey knew Ian would want him to lie, but the look in Fiona’s eye, made it impossible for Mickey to come up with something even a little convincing. She already knew.

“Fiona,” Ian tried to explain.

“You sack of shit!” Fiona spat in Frank’s direction.

“What did I do?”

“Are you fucking serious, Frank?!” Lip snapped.

“Oh, c’mon,” Frank laughed nervously, “Are you seriously going to believe this ex con, piece of street trash?”

“Hey, fuck you!” Mickey pointed to Frank, “You’re lucky I don’t come over there and fucking end your pathetic waste of a life! I had him crying on my doorstep yesterday, because you fuckin’ hit him! Fuck you!”

“Oh, please,” Frank scoffed.

“I knew that bruise looked weird,” Jimmy said to Fiona, which only caused her to get angrier.

“Ok, maybe I did hit him, but does anyone want to know my side of the story?”

A collective “no” came from around the table.

“Well,” Frank continue on, “he started it, the little shit. Trying to tell me where I could go in my own goddamn house. I- I always say, you kids need to learn to respect me. I’m the victim here.”

Mickey was about to get out of his chair then because he couldn’t take it anymore. But before he could, Fiona took the knife from her plate and pointed it at Frank’s throat. The room went silent then, and out of the corner of his eye, Mickey saw Carl slip Liam a twenty-dollar bill under the table.

Fiona kept her eyes trained on Frank, and her voice came out wavery, “Don’t hit any of my kids ever again.”

Frank, who really wasn’t in any position to be arguing, just scoffed, “Your kids?”

“Yes, Frank, my kids. My goddamn kids, that I’ve had to basically raise alone. No thanks to you or Monica. You have no right to hit them, and if I fucking see another bruise on Ian’s face,” her breath hitched as tears ran down her cheeks, “I’ll fucking make sure you regret it.”

Jimmy got up then, and put his arms around Fiona, “Hey,” he said gently, “why don’t we put the knife down? We’ll go talk about it in the other room.”

Fiona looked around at the table, and then sighed, “Ok.”

“Ok, good,” Jimmy said, taking the knife from her hand and putting it back on the plate.

Frank got up from his chair then, clearing his throat, “I think that this is a good time to stop the party. I’ll be retiring to my bedroom now, if that’s alright with everyone?” and with that, Frank left.

The room breathed a sigh of relief. Mickey looked over at Yevgeny, to make sure he was alright.

Yevgeny didn’t seem bothered by Fiona’s outburst, and continued to eat the rest of his meal.

That didn’t surprise Mickey much. They’d both been to family dinners a lot less civilized than this.

The room stayed silent for a few more seconds when Lip said, “Great job, Fiona. Had to cause a scene.”

“Fuck you, Lip!” Fiona snapped, “You’re such an egotistical fuck.”

Lip shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

Fiona held her chin high, but she looked like she was about to burst into tears. She looked over at Mickey and Yevgeny, “I’m sorry you two had to see that. I hope I didn’t ruin the night for you,” she then addressed the room, “I’m sorry all of you had to see that,” and with that, Fiona left, with Jimmy right behind her.

“What the fuck, dude?” Carl said to Lip, shaking his head.

“What?”

“You didn’t have to be such an asshole to her.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You _were_ ,” Liam said, crossing his arms.

Lip looked to Debbie, who was now had Franny on her lap, stroking her hair. She just shook her head. He then looked to Ian, who sighed.

“You’re going to have to apologize to her.”

Lip widened his eyes, “Why me?”

“Because you’re a dick. Are you seriously still pissed about what she said about Mandy?”

Lip bit the inside of his cheek, and then glanced to Mickey.

Mickey understood then. He remembered when he first met Fiona at the bar, and she’d gotten shit faced, and kept profusely apologizing about something she said about his sister. Something about Lip dodging a bullet. He forgave her, it didn’t really bother him to begin with. In fact, he actually agreed with her to a point. He sighed, “Look, man, it’s fine. She’s already apologized for it. Mandy definitely wouldn’t care. Just let it go.”

Lip let out an annoyed sigh, “Fine I’ll go talk to her.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Don’t sound so thrilled about it.”

Lip also rolled his eyes, getting up to leave, but not before playfully smacking Ian upside the head.

“Hey,” Ian grumbled, rubbing his head, even though there was no way that hurt him.

When Lip left, Debbie got up, with Franny on her hip. She looked to Liam and Yevgeny, “Ok, I guess that dinner’s done. Do you two wanna go with me and Franny to make ice-cream sundaes, and then watch a movie?”

Yevgeny turned to Mickey excitedly, “Can I, dad? I ate all my spinach, see?”

Mickey chuckled, “Course you can, Yev. Would you be ok if Ian and I stayed back for a bit?”

Yevgeny nodded, before hugging his dad, “Thanks for taking me with you to dinner.”

Mickey hugged him back, “You’re welcome, Yevvy.”

“Ian, thanks for letting me come over. I’m sorry your dad is a meanie.”

Ian smiled at Yevgeny, before kissing him on the head, “No problem, Yev. Thanks for coming with me.”

“C’mon,” Liam said, getting out of his chair, “we got lots of icecream, and toppings.”

Yevgeny rushed over to Liam, and then they both followed Debbie out of the room.

Carl and Kelly were the next to leave, with Carl telling Ian not to worry about Frank, and Kelly telling Mickey it was nice meeting him. They too, went out the same way Debbie and the kids did. And now, there were two.

Both him and Ian sat there for a moment, not knowing what to say, and then finally, Ian broke the silence, “Follow me,” he said, getting up from the table.

Mickey got up and followed Ian out of the dining room, and then outside on to the front steps. He was already fishing out a cigarette, when they both sat down on them. Mickey lit it, and then took a long drag before passing it to Ian.

Ian took it, not saying anything for a moment. Though after he handed the cigarette back to Mickey, he said, “What did I tell ya? Just like clockwork.”

Mickey nodded, “Yeah, I get it now. Sorry, I fucked everything up.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I let it slip about your dad,” Mickey said, handing the cigarette to Ian.

“Oh,” Ian said with a wave of his hand, “it’s whatever.”

“Ian.”

“I’m serious. I didn’t want them to know, but they would have found out eventually. It’s not your fault, Mick, I promise. You didn’t fuck anything up. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Me too,” Mickey said, a smile playing at his lips. A silence broke out between them again, as they shared the cigarette. Mickey used this time to think about the past hour. As far as family functions go, this was one of the better ones Mickey’s been to. Then again, Mickey’s family was a lot more fucked up than Ian’s. Though that didn’t change the fact that Ian’s dad was an abusive asshole. He knew the signs. His own father was the perfect example of it, a walking list of what an abhorrent, disgusting, low life individual should act like. And Frank Gallagher definitely checked all the boxes. Ian didn’t deserve the treatment Frank gave him. None of the Gallagher kids did. But especially Ian because it was _his_ Ian. His boyfriend was the one that had to go home to this every time Frank decided to come back. And Mickey couldn’t understand why he got it worse out of all of them. He really couldn’t.

A few minutes passed, and the cigarette was now a short stub. Mickey finally stomped it out with his foot and sighed.

“What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Your dad.”

Ian gave Mickey a little smirk, “I don’t know if that should make me jealous or not.”

Mickey gave Ian a look, “I mean I’m thinking about how your dad treats you.”

The smirk slipped from Ian’s face when he said, “Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking get it. I know he doesn’t like that you remind him of your mom, but I saw that family portrait. Your sister Debbie looks like her more than anyone else, and Frank’s perfectly fine with her.”

“I think it’s more in the way I act than how I look,” Ian said softly.

“Seriously? He fucking hates you, because you remind him of his dead wife?”

“It could also be the fact,” Ian said, looking up at the sky, “that I’m not his real son.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “What?”

“Frank’s not my biological dad.”

“Oh,” Mickey said, just like Ian did minutes before. He looked at Ian then, really looked at him. Ian, the guy that was so kind and good. The guy that was an attractive pain in the ass when they first started seeing each other. When Mickey brought Ian home the first time, after they played pool at the bar, he thought, _‘here’s a guy who has everything he ever wanted. How fucking nice it must be to have whatever you want, including me’_. But now, Mickey could see Ian for who he truly was. He was just like him. Just a guy trying to be better. And Mickey thinks that he likes this Ian better, the real one. Not the fake one, that hides behind smooth words and easygoing smiles, but the real one. The version he got to see, and nobody else. _His_ Ian.

Ian huffed out a laugh, “Yeah.”

“So, your real dad. Do you know him?”

“He lives about five minutes from here.”

“You ever see him?”

“Only at family reunions. He’s my uncle.”

Mickey raised his brow in surprise.

“Well, he’s technically my dad, and Frank’s my uncle, but yeah. I guess my mom was messing around with Frank’s brother during one of their many ‘breaks’, and then nine months later I was born.”

“Does your real dad know?”

Ian’s eyes lowered to the ground when he said, “Yeah, he knows.”

“Well, obviously there’s a story there.”

Ian wrapped his arms around his knees, “Yeah, there is. He doesn’t want me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when we went to get Liam’s paternity test, Lip and I decided it would be a great idea to take one too, on the off chance one of us weren’t his kid. It was kind of a goof. I didn’t really expect either of us to not be Frank’s son. Guess I was lucky,” Ian said, still looking at the ground, “Frank was pissed when he found out. He called his brother about it, and it became a whole thing. Frank wanted child support, and Clayton, my dad, wanted to keep it a secret.”

“What happened?”

“He was running for city council at the time. A story like adultery could cost him the election, or his marriage. So, he cut a deal with Frank, and paid off some debts for him, and in return, I’m contractually obligated to never speak about how he’s my real father. Which is fucking fine by me. I don’t want to be around someone who wants nothing to do with me. Anyway, Frank’s name is the one on the birth certificate. He’s always said he was my father, even after he found out. He’s just never liked me. I think the memory of Monica cheating on him with his brother will always make me look bad in his eyes. Sometimes, I think he might have always suspected I wasn’t his. He’s been slapping me around since I was little. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I never needed a father anyway.”

Mickey could tell from the hurt in Ian’s voice, that it did matter. Though, instead of pointing that out, Mickey just said, “Fathers, huh? Well, who fuckin’ needs em’? They’re all shit anyways.”

“I don’t know,” Ian lifted his head, and a small smile formed on his face, “I happen to know a few good ones.”

Mickey blushed, “Oh, yeah?”

“You’re a good father, Mickey. Yevgeny is lucky to have you, and he knows it too. That kid looks up to you, y’know? You’re his hero.”

Mickey felt his heart flutter, when he said, “C’mere.”

Ian scooted towards him, before closing the gap between them. Ian held the back of Mickey’s neck, crashing their lips together.

Mickey sighed into the kiss, letting his hand rest on Ian’s knee.

They kept kissing for who knows how long when Mickey heard the door open. However, he didn’t make any efforts to pull away from Ian.

“Christ,” Lip groaned in annoyance, “are you trying to suck leftovers from his teeth?”

Mickey only responded with his middle finger, but Ian pulled away to give his brother a withering look.

“That’s fucking gross, Lip.”

Lip took a hit from his vape and shrugged, before moving past them, and down the steps.

Ian rolled his eyes, “You talk it out with Fiona?”

“Yup. We’re good now.”

“Where are you going?”

Lip turned around, but continued to walk backwards, “Tami invited me out with some of her friends!” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth, “I’m gonna try to make this night not a total waste!”

“You know Frank’s going to find out about your girlfriend eventually!”

“Not if you don’t tell him!”

“I don’t know, man! I’ll think about it!”

“Asshole!” Lip laughed, before getting into his car.

Mickey watched as Lip drove away, and then looked to Ian, who was staring at him. “Yeah?”

“Can I show you something?”

Mickey shrugged, “Sure.”

Ian got up then, holding his hand out for Mickey.

Mickey took it, and let Ian pull him to his feet. He then followed Ian towards the back of the house, idly walking next to him, their shoulders bumping every so often. It was so soft and easy going, but every time their skin touched, he felt little shock waves of anticipation crawl up his skin. It all felt so foreign, but it was safe. Mickey liked that Ian made him feel safe.

At some point in their walk, Ian gently guided Mickey’s hand into his. Then they were walking hand in hand to wherever Ian was going, which Mickey was getting curious about, but didn’t say a word.

Finally, when Ian stopped, Mickey looked up at the glass room at the back of the house. It was an indoor flower garden. There were rows of flowers of different shapes, colors, and sizes. With a few statues littered around, and a fountain in the middle. There was a sliding door that went to the back of the house, and a door that was on the outside. A door that Ian was currently opening.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling Mickey inside.

“Wow,” Mickey said, eyes scanning the perimeter. It was beautiful and peaceful, all the flowers surrounding them. The floral scent floating around them. Mickey felt calm in that moment. He looked up to Ian, who seemed lost in thought. He furrowed his brow, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You seem to be somewhere else.”

Ian blinked, before looking to Mickey, “Oh, uh,” he stammered, a blush forming on his cheeks, “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“It’s just,” he swallowed hard, like something was lodged in his throat, “this was my mom’s garden.”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes, I come here to be alone. When it all gets to be too much, and I feel like I’ve lost myself. I’ll come here, and just sit. I feel centered somehow.”

Mickey nodded. He knew Ian was attached to his mom. More so than any of his other siblings. He knew that Ian missed her, and Mickey could understand that. There were a lot of days where Mickey would think about his own mom, and he’d get a sick feeling in his stomach. A feeling of loss and guilt.

“Sometimes, I’ll talk to her,” Ian laughed a little, ducking his head, “Weird, right?”

“I don’t think it is.”

Ian glanced back at Mickey, his eyes shining now, “I feel close to her this way.”

“Did she spend a lot of time here?”

Ian nodded, “When she actually stayed here, that is. The gardeners would take care of it while she was gone, but when she was here, she’d spend a lot of time and energy on making sure the flowers were healthy, and that the statues and fountain were cleaned. It was the only time she’d spend doing something other than drugs. She cared about this garden. Sometimes more than us, I think. It is beautiful though, isn’t it?”

Mickey didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

Ian grabbed his hand again and guided him silently to look at all the flowers. They stayed like that for a while, quiet, and deep in thought. Finally, they stopped at a rose bush.

Mickey stared at them intently. They looked like something out of a garden magazine.

“White roses,” Ian said, snapping Mickey out of his thoughts, “Those were her favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know why I brought you here, Mick?”

“To show me flowers?”

“Well, yeah,” Ian rolled his eyes, “but I also wanted to show you this place, because it meant a lot to my mom. I guess I just wanted to show you that she wasn’t just destruction. She wasn’t just her disease. She had a beautiful heart, I think. If she would have just gotten help, then…” Ian trailed off.

Mickey furrowed his brow, understanding that Ian was telling him this for a reason, “Why are you telling me this, Ian?”

“I’m just trying to say that me and my mom are a lot alike. She was messed up, but I think there’s a light somewhere. A desire to help and be good. I don’t think my mom ever truly found that light, and I’m not excusing all the shit she did to us. My brothers and sisters hated her for what she did. They get upset when I defend her, and sometimes I do too, because she’s done some really shitty stuff to me. But then I come out here and look at the roses, and then I know. I could see her desire to want to help and nurture. There was good in her, and that makes me happy to be like her. Even if it gets annoying when Lip and Fiona compare me to her all the time.”

“Yeah, except you’re not a psycho, who lets her son lay in the back yard with a broken collarbone for hours,” Mickey muttered under his breath.

Ian heard him, however, and the broken look on his face, made Mickey want to take back what he said.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “just what she did to you, it pisses me off. Still, it was a fucked-up thing to say. I’m sorry, Ian.”

“It’s fine,” Ian said, in a tone that clearly was not fine, and cleared his throat, adverting his attention back to the bush.

Mickey bit his lip, feeling shameful. He wanted to run away from the conversation, but what good would that do? So, he stayed put, hoping Ian would say something.

“Mom said that white roses symbolize innocence and purity,” he murmured, running his fingers lightly across the petals.

“Guess they’d be wasted on me then, huh?”

Ian looked up at Mickey with a sad smile, before looking back at the rose. Ian then reached into his pocket and pulled out his silver knife. Carefully, he opened it up, and cut the rose right above the first thorn on the stem. He then closed his knife and put it back in his pocket.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he was doing, when Ian held it out to him.

“Here.”

Mickey stared at Ian’s outstretched hand, like it was a trick. However, he soon got over himself, and grabbed it ever so gently, as if dropping it would cause it to shatter like glass. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he put it up to his nose and sniffed. It smelled flowery, like sweet grass and soft summer air.

When Mickey looked up, Ian was smiling at him. “What?” Mickey griped, feigning annoyance, but overall happy that Ian didn’t seem to be upset with him anymore.

“You look good with a rose.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Here,” he said, and before he even knew what he was doing, Mickey leaned up to tuck the rose behind Ian’s ear.

Ian blushed, his eyes widening a bit, bringing his hand up to barely touch at the rose.

Mickey blushed back, watching Ian’s face change from mild surprise, to pure happiness, as Mickey saw Ian’s emerald eyes crinkle and his mouth break into a toothy grin. And in that moment, Mickey felt his heart stutter. The way Ian looked, with the rose in his fiery red hair, luminated by the stars and moonlight, shining through the glass of the greenhouse. _‘Innocence and purity,’_ Mickey thought to himself, and in that moment, a feeling crossed over him that shook him to his very core. It was love.

Mickey didn’t know who initiated it first, but soon their mouths met in kiss. A kiss that was so sweet, Mickey could taste it. Sugary, soft, and full of love.

Ian brought his hands up to cup Mickey’s face.

Mickey let himself be held for a while as they kissed the bad feelings from the night away. In that moment, in that one special moment, it was only them. Ian and Mickey. Like it should be.

Finally, Ian broke away, a romantic and loving smile gracing his lips. He rubbed their noses together, and then gave one gentler kiss to Mickey’s cheek, before stepping away. He then headed for the water fountain.

Mickey let himself catch his breath for a second, before turning around and following Ian. He stopped next to him, only to look up and see Ian lost in thought again.

Suddenly, Ian plucked the rose out from behind his ear, and set it down in the water. They both watched as the flower drifted toward the middle of the fountain, bobbing up and down as the stream hit it, struggling to stay above water.

They stayed silent for a moment longer, before Mickey said, “Stargazer lilies.”

Ian looked to him, as if he didn’t hear the first time, “Hm?”

“Stargazer lilies. That’s uh, that’s my mom’s favorite flower. I like them too, I guess.”

“Oh,” Ian said, and then he smiled, “I don’t think we have any here. Maybe I should ask Sheila to get some.”

Mickey’s face heated up, and Ian laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Mickey nodded in agreement and followed Ian through the back door of the house.

They weaved their way through the back of the house with Mickey trying not to get lost or lose Ian, because if he did, he’d be fucked. The house really was that big. Finally, they both stopped at a door.

Mickey could hear sound coming from behind it before Ian even opened the door. Which led him to realize that this was the in-home theatre, which Mickey still thought was a ridiculous thing to have, but he didn’t tell Ian that.

When Ian opened the door, they were greeted by Fiona, Debbie, Jimmy, Carl, and Kelly. The kids, however, were too invested in the film to look up.

Mickey looked over at the screen to see that they were watching the Aristocats. It was a good movie, a classic Disney film. Mickey smiled a little, watching as the two adult cats, Duchess and O’Malley, watch the stars from up above, and enjoy the moment together, when they know that they’d soon have to go their separate ways, because Duchess was a fancy house cat from Paris, and a mother of three kittens. O’Malley was an alley cat, and he was used to being alone. And they both knew that even though they’d never see each other again, they still had that one night together. Of course, until everything becomes all happy in the end, and they stay together. But real life wasn’t like the movies. And Mickey didn’t like how close this cartoon about cats, was resembling his current situation. It wasn’t like Mickey was planning on leaving Ian anytime soon, but Mickey’s happiness always had a limited amount of time before it ran out, because he’d always mess it up. And Mickey had to face the fact that he’d never be truly happy with someone. Even if that someone, was someone he was falling in love with.

“Are you staying to watch the movie?”

Mickey finally tuned back into whatever conversation Ian and Fiona were having. He looked over at his boyfriend, who was leaning against the wall, next to Fiona.

“Nah, I think Mickey and I are going to go upstairs and sleep.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced, “Sleep?”

Ian grinned, “Yup, that’s what I said. Night, Fiona.”

Mickey went over to where Yevgeny was sitting, and leaned over the seat, “Hey, buddy, you good here?”

Yevgeny turned to face his dad, “Yep, Miss. Fiona said that Liam has bunkbeds, and I can sleep in his room and borrow some jammies.”

“You’ll be ok if I turned in for the night?”

Yevgeny nodded, and then whispered, “Sorry if I made you embarrassed at dinner.”

Mickey shook his head, “You didn’t embarrass me, Yev. You could never embarrass me, ok? If anything, I messed up.”

Yevgeny gently slapped Mickey on the cheek, “Don’t say that,” he scolded, still whispering, “You’re the best dad ever.”

Mickey smiled, and leaned down to kiss Yevgeny on the head, “Night, kid.”

“Night, dad,” he said, and turned back to the movie.

Mickey then followed Ian back out into the hallway, and they both made their way to the living room, and up the stairs, and finally to Ian’s room.

Mickey didn’t know what to say when he stepped into the big bedroom, which looked to be the size of his living room. Its walls were painted a dark blue, with wooden trim. The king-sized bed was set against the wall, all made up in a multicolored striped comforter, and a lot of throw pillows. Ian had both a walk-in closet and a vanity dresser. He also had his own desk with a computer, and a bookshelf filled with books that Mickey couldn’t even pronounce. A flat screen tv hung on one of the walls above a tv stand, which had a ps4 and a bunch of games, and in front of the tv, on the floor, was a small couch. The room was littered with posters on the walls, but they were all hung up in frames.

It was a nice room. So nice, that it made Mickey feel intimidated. He was so wrapped up in the grandeur of it all, that he didn’t even hear Ian shut the door. And he definitely didn’t hear Ian come up behind him, startling when he felt Ian’s arms slide around his waist.

“Too much?”

Mickey huffed out a laugh, “Nah, it definitely says ‘I’m a rich Northside prick.’”

“Well, I was trying to go for ‘pretentious Northside asshole,’ but I must have missed the mark.”

Mickey sucked in a breath, when he felt Ian’s lips graze the shell of his ear, “Well, better luck next time.”

“Yeah,” Ian sighed, rubbing his hands along Mickey’s hips and around his ass, “Mickey?”

“Hm?”

“I want you on the bed.”

Mickey’s face broke out into a cocky grin, “That anyway to treat a guy you just had dinner with?”

“On the bed, Milkovich, now,” Ian said with such authority, it made Mickey’s knees go a little weak.

Mickey didn’t wait for Ian to say it again, because he was already throwing himself on the bed by the time Ian turned around to turn the light out. However, he wasn’t expecting the mattress to feel so goddamn comfortable, “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, as he felt Ian crawl on the bed.

“I got you that worked up already?”

“You fuckin’ wish. This bed feels fantastic,” he murmured, feeling his eyes droop.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep on me,” Ian laughed, reaching over to turn on the lamp beside his bed.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’ve had a long day.”

“Well, I can finally get my dick up, so give me at least another twenty minutes of your time.”

“Finally? When the fuck are you not hard? Always poking me with it and shit when I’m trying to sleep.”

Ian looked down at Mickey with a surprised expression. It was as if Ian told Mickey something he wasn’t meaning to tell. The expression was gone within seconds, however, and replaced with his little pout, which was starting to become the bane of Mickey’s existence.

“What did I tell you about pouting?”

“But Mickey,” Ian said, kissing his neck, “you look so good.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Whatever, Gallagher, you got twenty minutes.”

“Bet I can get you to cum quicker than that,” Ian winked, before leaning down to take Mickey’s mouth in a kiss.

Mickey opened his mouth and let Ian’s tongue in, as he reached for his boyfriend’s belt. He had a feeling this would take a lot longer than twenty minutes. And he was ok with that.


	16. Stand By Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This was supposed to come out Monday, but the chapter was so long it took a lot of time to edit. Also, this only took super long to update, because along side this story, I was writing another Gallavich story, soooo yeah :) But the new chapter is here now, and I am so excited for everyone to read it. This is the last chapter of part two, and I think we all know what is inevitably going to happen in this chapter regarding Ian's bipolar disorder. I hope everyone enjoys it! There are a few chapter warnings like: mentions of child abuse, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of trauma, mentions of past sexual trauma, and a slight mention of police violence against a person with mental illness, like it's one or two sentences but it's in there. Anyway, that's it for now. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter. As always thank you for the wonderful comments and kudos, and thanks for reading!

In the morning, Mickey woke up with Ian’s arms wrapped around him. He blinked a few times, before shifting to face Ian, who seemed to be waking up as well.

“Morning,” he rasped, his voice still laced with sleep.

“Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a fuckin’ princess.”

Ian grinned, pulling Mickey closer to him, “That’s what I like to hear.”

“You sleep on this fuckin’ thing every night, and then decide to go sleep with me in my shitty ass bed?”

“Well, there are perks to sleeping in your bed,” he said, kissing the hickies on Mickey’s neck, “The main one being that you’re in it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“As much as I love this morning foreplay, I need to get ready for work.”

Ian grinned at him, “Take a shower with me then?”

“Pretty sure that would be the opposite of productive.”

“What, you don’t trust me to keep my hands to myself?” Ian questioned with feigned hurt.

“Red, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, if I handcuffed you to the shower rod.”

“Love when you talk dirty.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Fuck off,” he laughed, getting out of bed. He then headed towards Ian’s bathroom door, but before he went in, he looked back over his shoulder, “You comin’?”

Ian scrambled out of bed after him, and they both rushed to get in the shower, which turned into Ian giving Mickey a blow job, which then turned into them washing each other’s hair, while giggling like school girls.

When they finally made it downstairs, Fiona was at the stove cooking breakfast, while Liam, Franny, and Yevgeny were eating at the small breakfast table.

“Look who’s up,” Fiona smiled at them, “Mickey, how do you like your eggs?”

Mickey blinked for a moment, feeling a little awkward. This was a lot different than breakfast at home. The food looked fresh and made from scratch. No one was fighting over the last sausage link or piece of toast. And everyone was fully clothed. It was all so very weird to him. Mickey waited a few more seconds, before snapping out of it and saying, “Uh, scrambled is fine.”

“Where’s Sheila?” Ian asked, picking up a piece of toast.

“She needed to go grocery shopping, so I told her I’d handle breakfast. It’s the least I could do since I ruined last night’s dinner.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Fi.”

“Are you only going to eat toast?” Fiona said, changing the subject, “You need to eat more than that.”

“Ok, I get it,” Ian said, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets, “You don’t want to talk about it.”

Mickey looked over at the table to see Yevgeny and Liam in a heated debate over superheroes. He walked over and put his hand on his son’s head, causing Yevgeny to turn around. “You gonna tell me good morning?”

Yevgeny smiled up at him, “Morning, dad. Liam and I are trying to figure out which superhero is the strongest. I said the hulk, but Liam thinks it’s Thor.”

“It is Thor. He’s a Nordic god. What’s a superhero compared to a god?”

Yevgeny turned back to Liam, “Isn’t that what superheroes are? They have special powers. And if we’re talking about who’s the strongest, it’s the hulk, because he has big muscles.”

“But the Hulk is only strong when he’s the Hulk. Bruce Banner is a wimp.”

“But Thor is only super strong when he has his hammer.”

Yevgeny looked back at Mickey, “Who do you think the strongest is, dad?”

Mickey scratched his head, “Uh, I guess Superman?”

“We’re talking about Marvel characters.”

“Fine, then Captain America.”

Both Liam and Yevgeny rolled their eyes at him.

“What?”

“You just picked the most basic one,” Liam said.

“Well, he’s better than fuckin’ Thor,” Mickey argued, and then wondered why he was trying to justify his answer to a child.

“I like Cinderella!” Franny exclaimed.

“Cinderella isn’t a superhero, Franny,” Liam said.

“Yes, she is,” Franny pouted.

“Hell, party till twelve, and then run home with one glass shoe? I’d like to see Thor do that,” Mickey said.

“Here, Mickey,” Ian said, handing him a full plate of food, before kissing him on the cheek.

“Thanks,” Mickey said, grabbing the back of Ian’s neck to kiss him properly.

“Eww,” The kids all sang out in unison.

“The hell are you three ewwing about?”

Liam rolled his eyes, “Get a room.”

“Yeah, get a room and kiss in it,” Yevgeny giggled.

“I’m going over here,” Mickey grumbled, and took a seat at the kitchen island.

Ian grinned and took a seat next to him, “Aww did someone get their feelings hurt?”

Mickey flipped him off, and then looked over to Fiona, who was making sandwiches and putting them in paper bags, “What are those?”

“Lunch,” she said, “You want me to make you something?”

“Uh, I think I’m good. I’m a grown man.”

“So? Sheila and I usually make everybody’s lunch.”

“Even Lip and Ian’s?”

“Of course.”

“That’s hilarious,” Mickey said, while Ian gave him a look.

“What is?” Lip asked, coming into the kitchen as if he were summoned.

Mickey turned to him, “You let your sister pack your lunch for you?”

“Sometimes. What, Mandy doesn’t do the same?”

“I’m lucky if Mandy even leaves me my own truck so I can get to work. I usually don’t eat lunch, you know that.”

“Oh, then I’m definitely making you something to eat,” Fiona said.

Before Mickey could protest, Debbie came in, her heels clicking on the floor tile.

“Ok, Franny, we gotta go. Mommy doesn’t want to be late for class.”

“You take her to class with you?”

“No, she goes to a special daycare, that helps her develop skills and stuff like that.”

Mickey gave her a confused look, “Then why do you guys have a nanny?”

Debbie rolled her eyes, as if Mickey couldn’t possibly understand, and then grabbed the two paper bags from Fiona’s outstretched hand, “Thanks, Fi! C’mon, Franny, say goodbye.”

“Bye, aunt Fi!” Franny said, hugging Fiona around her legs, she then went over to Lip, “Bye, Uncle Lip!”

“See ya, Kid.”

Debbie picked Franny up, who was still waving goodbye.

“Bye, Uncle Ian! Bye, Uncle Liam! Bye, Yev! Bye, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey almost choked on his coffee, as Debbie left, carrying Franny with her. He looked over at Ian, who was beaming at him, “What?” he snapped.

“Nothing, Uncle Mickey.”

“Shut up.”

Mickey looked around to see Lip, whistling to himself, as he made his plate. He was obviously trying to act like he didn’t witness anything. And Fiona was smiling to herself, while she continued to make sandwiches.

Mickey wanted to bury himself alive. It was way too early for Franny to be calling him her uncle. It was also too early for Ian’s sister to be making him sandwiches. And it was definitely too early for Mickey to feel as comfortable as he did with Ian’s family.

A short time passed, while Mickey continued to eat his breakfast. It was really fucking good, and Mickey didn’t know if he’d be able to eat the food Fiona made him for lunch. From the dinner he ate last night to breakfast now, Mickey had never had that much food readily available to him in that condensed amount of time.

Mickey had finished his last piece of bacon, when Frank sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a three pieced suit, and holding a briefcase.

“Frank,” Fiona greeted in a monotoned voice.

“Hello, all. Nice morning, isn’t it?”

“It was,” Lip said, sipping on his coffee.

Frank side-eyed him, as he started making his own plate, “Philip, nice to see you made it home ok. I was worried about where you went off to last night.”

Lip snorted out a laugh, “I’m sure you were.”

“Going out to see a lady friend of yours?”

“Nice try, Frank,” Lip said, grabbing the last piece of toast, right as Frank reached for it, “but I’m not telling you shit.”

Frank scoffed, “Is that any way to treat your father?”

“Fuck off, Frank.”

“Do you see?!” He turned to Fiona, looking exasperated, “Do you see how all of you treat me?!”

Fiona rolled her eyes, “What’s wrong, Frank? Feeling unappreciated?”

“Oh, yeah, Fiona, yuck it up. Go ahead and cast me aside. It’s not like I spent your whole lives raising you. As a single father, I might add. Six ungrateful children, and for what? I give you all everything you want, and it just isn’t ever good enough,” Frank ranted, and waved his hands around for emphasis. He pointed to Lip, “You are an egotistical little prick, do you know that?”

Lip, who was now leaning against the wall, eating his breakfast, just shrugged in response.

Frank then turned to Fiona, “And you are a greedy little bitch. All you do is take my money. _My_ money,” he said again, this time facing the entire room. He looked back to Fiona, “Well, things are going to change.”

Fiona glared at him, “What are you talking about?”

“It seems I’ve been too lax with all of you. It seems that you all have been taking advantage of my charitable personality. That is now no longer the case.”

“Charitable personality?” Fiona scoffed.

“Yes, Fiona, my charitable personality. I’ve been funding your wedding, which by the way, is costing me a pretty penny.”

“You said it was the father of the bride’s job to pay,” she protested.

“Yes, it is tradition for me to pay, but there are other traditions that I’m entitled to as the patriarch of this family.”

“Like what?”

“Well, walking you down the aisle is one, another being the father daughter dance. Also, I want to do a toast.”

Fiona turned to Frank, her arms crossed, “No. I’m not having anyone walk me down the aisle, and I’m definitely not dancing with you, and if you think you’re giving a toast then fucking forget it. You’re lucky I’m even letting you come.”

Frank sighed, “Well, that is your choice. Just like it is my choice to redact all the money you used.”

Fiona’s face became dangerous then, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, Fiona,” Frank smirked, “You didn’t think I would just give you this money. Besides, it’s not like I’m asking for anything too outlandish. I just want to be part of the festivities.”

“No, what you want is to make my wedding all about you. You want everyone to applaud you for paying for my wedding, and you want to prance around and pretend to act like the perfect dad, when you’ve done fuck all for any of us.”

“I’ve done stuff,” Frank said, aghast, “I’ve given you anything you ever wanted.”

“Sometimes money isn’t enough, Frank,” Lip muttered.

“Oh, it seems to be enough for Fiona. No money, no wedding.”

“You can’t do that, Frank! I’ve been planning this wedding for months!”

“I’ve said all I needed to say. You have my list of demands. I’ll be glad to continue paying for the wedding, but I won’t have you cast me aside, when this is something so important in every father’s life.”

Fiona stared Frank down, her jaw set. A few seconds passed, before she spat out a, “Fine,” and then turned back to the sandwiches.

Frank smiled victoriously, “That’s what I thought.”

Mickey couldn’t believe the balls on this guy. It was obvious to Mickey, that to Frank, this was all a game. His children’s lives were all a game to him, and he knew how to play too. He knew what cards he had, and he knew when to play them. He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. A picture-perfect family. But, just like the family portrait Mickey stumbled upon last night, it was just a front. It wasn’t a real representation of their family. A family, Mickey knew now, wasn’t perfect at all.

“Jesus, Frank,” Ian said, “Are you drunk already?”

“No, I am not. I had a little bit of scotch earlier, but that isn’t the point. Speaking of alcoholics, however,” he said, looking at Lip.

Lip tensed, and his apathetic expression was replaced with one of extreme annoyance, “What?”

“You will watch how you speak to me. Especially, in my own home.”

“Does it technically count as your home, when you spend the least amount of time here than any of us?”

“You will respect me, Lip. I wouldn’t want to start taking your things away.”

“Like what?”

“Well, your cars, for one thing.”

Lip rolled his eyes, “Ok.”

“Or maybe I’ll kick you out of the house. See if you could make it out on your own without my help.”

Lip shrugged, and Mickey was impressed at how Lip wasn’t letting Frank get to him.

Frank stared Lip down for a moment, and then with a little smirk, he said, “Well, I could always stop paying for your tuition.”

That caught Lip’s attention, “What?”

“Sure. You already have a bachelor’s degree. Why pay for any more of your education?”

“Because, I’m going for my master’s, Frank,” Lip said heatedly.

“Well, I’m sure that big brain of yours will figure out how to pay. Scholarships and those sorts of things.”

“It’s too close to the next school year to apply for anything!”

“Maybe you could actually work at a job that would pay you. I could get you on at my firm, if that’s what you would like?”

“What I’d like, is for you to not fuck with my tuition, Frank! It’s like pennies to you, it’s not like a big hassle for you to cover it! C’mon I only have a year left!”

And there it was. Mickey could tell by the look on Frank’s face, that he was able to get under Lip’s skin. He now knew his one true weakness, which was not being able to continue his education.

“Nothing comes free, son. You will start giving me the respect I deserve, and maybe I’ll continue funding your inane wishes to become a biochemical engineer.”

“Whatever, Frank,” Lip muttered.

“Philip, we just talked about this,” Frank scolded, “How about a ‘thanks, dad’?”

“Thanks, dad,” Lip gritted out.

Frank smirked, and then turned to Mickey, Ian, and Fiona, “And speaking about nothing being free,” he said, before ripping the breakfast plate out from under Mickey, which still had one piece of toast on it, “that goes for foreigners, trying to mooch off your average wealthy American,” he grabbed the toast, and then tossed the plate in the sink, before looking pointedly at Fiona, “Don’t feed the wild animals, or they’ll come back and never leave.”

“What the hell, Frank?!” Ian snapped, while Mickey just glared up at him.

“Could you not be a fucking asshole for two seconds? Mickey and Yevgeny are guests. Try showing some hospitality,” Fiona said, her eyes angry.

“Me show hospitality? Were they,” Frank gestured to Ian and Mickey, “showing me any hospitality, by keeping me up half the night, with their boy on boy love making sounds?”

Ian gave Frank a satisfied smirk, “We thought we were being quiet.”

“I’m sure you were,” Frank said sarcastically, “That’s why it sounded like you were trying to break the wall with the headboard.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow at Ian.

Ian shrugged, “There might be a few dents.”

“Again, with the disrespect. You should be the most appreciative towards me since I basically took you in, even after I found out your mother slept with my brother. I still allowed you to carry on like nothing had happened. You should be on your knees kissing the ground I walk on, you little bastard.”

The smile slipped from Ian’s face as Frank continued.

“Look at you. No job, no college education, no prospects. Having all these crackpot dreams of becoming and EMT. At least your brothers and sisters have ambitions. All you do is use my money, eat my food, and shack up with wanted criminals. I’m glad your mother isn’t here to see this. She would be so disappointed to see how you turned out.”

“Frank!” Both Lip and Fiona barked in unison.

“What? It’s true.”

“Fuck you, Frank,” Ian muttered, his eyes starting to get red around the edges.

Mickey couldn’t stop the words coming out of his mouth even if he wanted to, when he said, “I’d say he’s pretty fuckin’ lucky not to be the son of a shithead like you.”

The room went silent then. Frank narrowed his eyes at Mickey, “Excuse me?”

Mickey stood up then, keeping his eyes on Frank. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying with all his might not to hit Frank. He’d had all he could take from this guy. He wasn’t going to let him keep talking to Ian the way he did. “You heard me,” he said, making his way to the now wide-eyed man.

Mickey backed Frank up to the counter, leaning in close enough to smell the alcohol and cigar smoke on his breath, “Y’know, you’re lucky my son is in the room, because that’s the only thing right now keeping me from ripping your vocal chords right out of your throat.”

“Did you just threaten me?” Frank stuttered out, and looked over Mickey’s shoulder to Ian, Lip, and Fiona, who were standing so still they could be statues, “Did you hear him threaten me?”

Mickey grabbed Frank’s jaw, and roughly turned it back to face him, “Look at me, so I know you’ll understand this. I don’t want to hear a word about you hitting or berating my fucking boyfriend again, and if I do, you’ll fucking regret it. I’ll have you gagged, gutted, and buried, before your drunk ass would even know what’s going on. Doubt anyone would miss you.”

Frank, who was still trying to gain some composure, fixed his expression to one of false arrogance, “You’re bluffing.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh and let go of Frank. He backed up a bit, scratching the corner of his brow. He wanted to hit the smug old bastard, but instead, Mickey just said, still keeping his voice low, “When Ian came to me Wednesday morning, and told me you hit him, I was ready to walk out of my house with my pistol and blow your fuckin’ brains out. Ian talked me out of it. So, if anyone should be groveling on the ground, it’s you. And don’t think that just because Ian saved your ass this time, that I won’t try it again if you piss me off.”

Frank, clearly rattled now, said, “And what if I call the police?”

“Call the cops, I don’t give a fuck. But I know a lot of fucking people, and I promise you’ll get yours, even if I’m locked behind bars.”

The room stayed silent for a moment, before Frank said, “You know what, Mickey? I think I’ll just leave you to your breakfast and go to work.”

Mickey nodded and grabbed the piece of toast out of Frank’s hand, before stepping back to let Frank through, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Frank grabbed his briefcase and left without another word.

Mickey made his way back to Ian and sat down. He turned to him, looking right into his emerald green eyes, when he said, “Don’t let him push you around anymore, ok? Do that for me.”

Ian blinked, before nodding slowly, “Ok, Mick.”

“Ok,” he said, and then bit into the toast in his hand.

The room went back to normal after that. It was as if someone had pressed unpause, as everyone went back to what they were doing before. Mickey let his eyes shift to Yevgeny, who started up his discussion of superheroes again, seemingly unaffected by what had just happened. Mickey knew it was because his son was used to it, having been witness to many unfortunate people who just happened to be on the end of Mickey’s tirade.

When Mickey brought his eyes back to his toast, he caught Lip staring at him. However, as soon as Mickey looked up to meet his eye, Lip looked down at the plate in his hand. Before Mickey could comment on that, Carl and Kelly walked into the kitchen, both dressed for the day.

“Hey,” he said, coming up next to Fiona.

“Hey,” she smiled at him, “We still have some breakfast left. Also, I packed your lunch.”

“Thanks,” Carl said, grabbing a plate, “How’s your morning been so far?”

Fiona let out an irritated sigh, “Well, Frank was just in here.”

“So, bad morning. He still around?”

“You just missed him.”

“Oh, great morning for me then,” he said, before shoveling his food quickly into his mouth. A few moments later, he turned to Ian and said, “Are you ready to go?”

Ian raised an eyebrow at him, “Ready to go where?”

“Kelly’s softball game. You said you’d drive us.”

“Oh shit,” Ian said, like he was just remembering, “I totally spaced it. When is her game?”

“In like twenty minutes.”

Ian looked guilty, when he said, “I don’t think I’ll have time. I have to drive back to the Southside to drop off Mickey and Yevgeny. Sorry, Carl.”

“I’ll take them,” Lip offered, putting his plate in the sink. He then grabbed a sack lunch off the counter.

Ian raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Sure, I’m going that way anyway.”

Ian looked to Mickey, who just shrugged, “Ok,” Ian said, turning back to Lip, “Thanks.”

“No big deal,” Lip said, passing Mickey, “You ready to go?”

“Yup, Let’s go, Yev,” Mickey said, before giving Ian a kiss goodbye.

“Hey, I’ll pick you up after work,” Ian said, and then kissed Mickey again.

“Looking forward to it, Gallagher.”

“Don’t forget these,” Fiona said, handing Mickey two bags, “One is for Yevgeny.”

“Yay, I get a special lunch!” Yevgeny cheered, and then grabbed one of the bags from Mickey’s hand, before leaving to catch up with Lip.

“Thank you,” Mickey said to Fiona, who just smiled at him in response. He said his goodbyes, and then followed Lip and Yevgeny out to Lip’s car.

“Wow, Lip, your car is cooler than Ian’s,” Yevgeny said, hopping in the backseat, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” Lip said with a laugh.

Mickey went to get in, but Lip stopped him.

“Hey,” he said, “thank you, for what you said to Frank. He’s an asshole. I’m sorry he talked to you the way he did.”

Mickey shrugged, “He’s a piece of shit. Ian doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Lip said.

“None of you do.”

Lip looked a little startled, but then he smiled softly, “Thanks.”

“No problem. Now, let’s drop Yev off, so we can get to work. I don’t feel like having Brad bitch at me today,” he said, before getting into the car.

Lip laughed, and then got into the driver’s side, buckling his seatbelt, before driving off.

After work, Ian picked Mickey up, and then drove straight to Mickey’s house, so he could pack an overnight bag. He was planning on staying the night with Ian again, and then tomorrow night they were supposed to go out to a gay bar with one of Ian’s friends. Then Sunday, Ian, Mickey, Yevgeny, and the rest of the Gallaghers were going to a White Sox game. It was going to be a busy weekend.

Mickey and Ian could have just stayed on the Southside, since that’s where they’d be picking up Ian’s friend, and the stadium was only a five-minute drive from Mickey’s house. But Mickey wanted to be a little selfish. He wanted to spend some uninterrupted time with Ian, and that big comfy bed in Ian’s room. So, Mandy agreed to babysit, and Mickey promised Yevgeny that he and Ian would be back first thing Sunday morning, and they’d all spend the day together at the game.

They didn’t get back to Ian’s house until around eight, because Ian refused to leave until he found the perfect outfit for Mickey to wear for Saturday night. They ended up picking out a black tank top and a pair off dark blue jeans, which was the only thing Mickey agreed on, because he was not the kind of guy to get dressed up and go to clubs. He was nervous enough already, having to meet Ian’s friend, who apparently knew his reputation and was a fucking social worker, but also Mickey was not a party guy. He was never into the gay scene, and he knew the second he walks into any gay club, he’d start feeling like a fish out of water. Ian assured him it would be fine, and that was the end of that discussion.

Later that night, Ian ordered them takeout, and then took Mickey out near the pool, and Mickey was almost afraid that Ian was going to ask him to swim, but Ian dragged him along closer to the pool house, where there was a jacuzzi. Mickey could do that, jacuzzies were like big bathtubs. Mickey was going to say he didn’t bring, or own a pair swim trunks, when Ian stripped completely naked, and then Mickey followed suit, before stepping in with Ian, sighing at how nice the water was.

They stayed in the jacuzzi for over an hour, just making out and enjoying each other’s company. Mickey wanted to fuck in the jacuzzi, but Ian said that if is siblings found jizz in the water, he’d be dead. So, they quickly got out, and got dressed, before racing back to the house, and up to Ian’s room, so they could get undressed again and fuck until they both pass out in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Mickey woke up alone. He walked down to the living room to see Ian sitting on the couch by himself, not doing anything, not watching anything, but just kept staring at the wall in front of him. When Mickey asked if he was ok, Ian just brushed him off, saying he was fine, and then offered to make them both breakfast.

The whole day went like that. No matter what they were doing, Ian seemed to be distracted, like he was a million miles away. Everyone was out for most of the day, so Mickey couldn’t pull one of Ian’s siblings aside and ask them about it. It was starting to worry Mickey because he was getting that strange feeling again. The feeling that Ian wasn’t telling him something.

In the late evening, they started getting ready to go out. They both hopped in the shower together, washing each other, and taking small breaks in between to kiss or touch. Sometimes, Ian would go back to staring at nothing. Finally, Mickey couldn’t take it anymore, and started rubbing Ian’s torso, while running kisses across his chest.

Ian blinked, like he just remembered where he was, and looked down at Mickey, smiling, “What are you doing?”

Mickey gently nipped at Ian’s chest, when he said, “Trying to get your attention.”

“Well, it’s working,” Ian laughed, pulling Mickey in for a kiss.

Mickey leaned into it, feeling Ian’s arms wrap around his waist. His mind went fuzzy for a moment, but then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing, so he pushed Ian back a bit.

Ian pulled back from the kiss, furrowing his brow, “What’s wrong?”

Mickey bit his lip, before saying, “Are you ok?”

Ian gave him a strange look, and then said, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been acting weird all day, and don’t fuckin’ say you haven’t been, cus’ I can tell when you’re lying. Are you upset? Did I do something wrong?”

Ian’s eyes widened as he shook his head, “What, Mick? No, god no. You didn’t-” Ian stopped, and ran his fingers through his hair, “I guess I’ve been a little off today.”

Mickey raised a brow, “A little?”

“I just got some shitty news this morning, but it’s nothing. I’m fine. It definitely has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,” Mickey said, feeling slightly relieved to hear he wasn’t to blame for Ian’s weird mood, “Do you wanna talk about it? The bad news, I mean.”

Ian gave a sad smile, shaking his head, “I’d rather not. Tonight is supposed to be fun. I don’t want to drag you down.”

“Ok,” Mickey said, just as Ian pulled Mickey closer to him, their cocks rubbing together. Mickey gasped.

“I mean, I could drag you down,” he murmured into Mickey’s ear, “As long as I get to fuck you while we’re down there.”

“Oh, Ian,” Mickey sighed, bucking up. He completely forgot what they’d been talking about.

Ian grinned, and kissed Mickey, before stepping away.

Mickey stood there gasping, and half hard. “You fucking tease,” he grumbled, while Ian just smirked.

“C’mon, we got a fun night ahead of us,” Ian said, before shutting off the shower, and then stepping out.

“Whatever,” Mickey muttered, stepping out as well, “as long as this fun night ends with you railing me into the mattress when we get back home.”

Ian pecked Mickey on the lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

After they dried off, and got dressed, Ian drove them down to the youth center, where Trevor worked. Mickey remembered the last time he was there. He was returning Ian’s silver knife after Yevgeny had taken it. He was going to give it to Carl, so Mickey didn’t have to face Ian, after he’d basically threatened the redhead of his property. It ended up not working out, and Mickey had to deliver the knife himself, and he was so glad he did. Mickey didn’t even want to think about the fact he could have passed up on knowing Ian. That Ian might have never stayed in his life.

When they walked through the shelter doors, Mickey decided to wait by the entrance, while Ian went and got Trevor. He looked around the shelter, still feeling that same sense of safety and acceptance that he did the first time he was here.

“Hey,” said a voice from behind. Mickey turned around to see Geneva, the girl he’d met last time, walking up to him.

“Sup,” he said, giving her a half wave.

“If you’re looking for Carl again, he’s usually gone back home by now.”

Mickey shook his head, “Nah, Ian and I are going out with Trevor.”

Geneva’s eyes lit up, “Ian’s here?”

“Yup.”

“I guess you ended up getting to know him after all,” she smirked.

“Well, you don’t end up being someone’s boyfriend without knowing them a little bit.”

“You’re dating him?” The young girl asked with excitement.

Mickey chuckled a bit, “Yeah.”

“When did this happen?”

“We’ve been off and on for most of the summer, but I guess we started getting more serious when he beat up these guys for me at a bar.”

Geneva nodded her head like she understood, “I’ve got a new girlfriend, Allison, and we started off rocky too. I stabbed her in the hand with a fork.”

Mickey nodded his head too, just like Geneva did. Oh, to be young and in love.

When Ian came back with Trevor, he introduced them to each other. Mickey and Trevor exchanged a brief handshake, before saying goodbye to Geneva, and following Ian out to his car.

When they arrived in Boy’s Town, Mickey felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He felt a little out of place, watching the strangers on the street. Men were hanging off other men, like they were goddamn jungle gyms. There was a lesbian couple laughing and kissing outside of one of the clubs, next to a drag queen, who was leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette.

Ian dragged him around and showed him the club he used to strip at. Thankfully, they weren’t going inside. Instead, they were going to a dance club that Trevor wouldn’t shut the fuck up about.

Mickey didn’t know if he like Trevor yet, but Mickey rarely liked anybody. He didn’t really know how to act around the guy, so he was being his regular stand-offish self, but he didn’t think Trevor minded, since the guy had been giving Mickey the same awkward treatment. At first, Mickey thought Trevor might have been harboring feelings for Ian, but he soon realized that wasn’t it, because Mickey had been all over Ian the moment they left the youth shelter, and Trevor seemed completely indifferent. Mickey knew now that it was probably his family’s reputation. A social worker and a Milkovich do not mix well together. However, there wasn’t any real animosity between Mickey and Trevor, which probably made Ian happy.

Mickey held back once they got to the club, calling Mandy so he could say goodnight to Yevgeny. When he finished, Trevor was already in the club, but Ian was waiting right by his side. Mickey looked up at the building in front of them. It was colorful, flashy, and he could hear the music blaring from inside every time someone opened the door. Mickey swallowed hard, and then startled, when he felt Ian slide his hand into his. He looked up to see a big goofy grin on Ian’s face. Mickey narrowed his eyes, “The fuck you smilin’ at?”

“I’m just happy to be here with you,” he said, dropping his head to kiss Mickey on the jaw, and then Ian moved up to his ear and whispered, “Are you ok?”

“Fine,” Mickey murmured, “just feelin’ a little out of place. I’m gay, but I’m not _gay_ gay,” he motioned to the people around for emphasis.

“Really? Because you looked pretty gay, when you were riding me last night.”

Mickey elbowed Ian in the ribs, while the other boy just laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Ian said, holding onto Mickey’s hand tighter, “and it’s ok, Mickey. I’ll be here with you the whole time. I get that this is all kinda new to you. I know you weren’t allowed to experience this type of stuff with your dad around, and it really isn’t your thing, but I’m happy you agreed to try it out.”

“It’s just,” Mickey sighed, “The only time I ever came around here, was to get fucked behind the bars, not go in them and find dates. You’re right, I wasn’t allowed to go to gay bars or pride parades, but even if I did, I don’t think I’d be going out on the town every night.”

“I know, Mick. Who knows, you could have fun tonight? Next year we could go to Chicago pride, if you want?”

Mickey nodded, not telling Ian he’d never been to a pride festival. Maybe he would like it, he thought, as he and Ian gave their ID’s to the bouncer, and then walked hand in hand into the club.

After a few hours, Mickey understood why he never liked the club scene. Everything was too bright, the people were annoying and loud, and he’s been hit on at least five times. Also, the drinks were fucking stupid. They all had complicated names and were overtly girly. Mickey was currently sipping on a cranberry fruit punch rainbow swirl whatever the fuck, while he was waiting for Ian to get out of the bathroom.

He was standing at the bar with Trevor, who was flirting with the bartender. He kept drinking, while he watched all the stupid drunk people dance. Their bodies were gyrating to the music, and Mickey was definitely not thinking of doing that with Ian. Dancing was not his thing, and he’d die before going out there and letting a bunch of people rub on him.

Suddenly, Mickey realized he was being watched, when he turned to see some guy sitting on one of the barstools, staring at him like he was starving. “The fuck you lookin’ at?” Mickey sneered.

The man was a lot older, he looked like he could be Mickey’s dad. He had all white hair and a white beard. He was a big guy too, which wasn’t really a problem for Mickey, except this guy was old as shit, and he had a boyfriend.

The man grinned, “You’re a feisty one. I like my boys with a kick to them.”

Oh, Mickey was going to be kicking something really soon. He fully turned to the guy, putting on his best menacing glare, “Not interested.”

“Bet I could change your mind.”

“Bet you fuckin’ couldn’t. Fuck off, Santa. Go find some coked out twink in here to fuck, and leave me alone,” he snapped, before turning to Trevor, who had stopped talking to the bartender, and was watching Mickey, laughing into his drink. Mickey raised an eyebrow at the other boy, daring him to say something.

“Santa, huh?” Said the guy behind him, “I like that. If you want, I can get you on my nice list this year. All you gotta do, is let me take you to the bathroom and stuff your stocking.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, as he slowly turned around. He stared the old creep down, “Listen, bitch,” he gritted out, trying not to punch the guy in the stomach, “the only ass play you’ll be getting from me tonight, is when I pull your lower intestines out through your asshole, and choke you with them.”

The guy blinked in surprise, “Jesus Christ, you psycho.”

“That’s right, I’m a psycho. Now, beat it, Old Saint Dick.”

The guy got up from his spot, and then hurried away, getting as far from Mickey as possible.

When Mickey turned around, Trevor was still laughing. Though this time he wasn’t doing it quietly into his drink, but out loud, and holding his stomach. Mickey folded his arms, “The fuck you laughin’ at?”

“I can see why Ian likes you now.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, man. You’re funny.”

Mickey’s hard expression softened into a little smirk. He’d never been called funny unironically before, even though Mickey knows he’s hilarious.

“You know, Milkovich, I didn’t know what to make of you at first. I know some of your family, and it’s not for good things. You’re cool though, and Ian’s really into you, and it seems like you’re really into him too.”

Mickey nodded, “I am. Thanks for your blessing though, not like it fuckin’ matters to me whether you like me or not.”

Trevor smirked, his shaggy brunet hair falling into his eyes, “Didn’t think it would. You don’t seem like the type of guy to care about what others think of you.”

“Damn fucking right. Why don’t you tell me more about me since you’ve apparently been psychoanalyzing me all night?”

“Well,” Trevor said, setting down his drink, “Your aggressive behavior, and your desire to be feared could be linked to your insecurity of having an incredibly small penis.”

Mickey barked out a laugh, “Oh, you think your funny too, huh?”

“Hey, you’re not the only comedian here tonight.”

“You know I could still kick your ass, right? Doesn’t matter if your Ian’s friend or not.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. The Milkoviches aren’t ones to shy away from ass kicking. I’ve been fag bashed enough by your family to know that, your dad contributing to a few of them.”

“Try living with him your whole life. I bet you anything you got from him, pales in comparison to the shit he put me through.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Sorry that happened to you though. I got no room to talk, because I’ve done it too, but it fuckin’ sucks, and it shouldn’t have happened.”

Trevor waved him off, “It’s whatever, man. I got a shit dad too, so I get it. He won’t accept me as his son because I didn’t want to continue living a lie as his daughter. Fuck him, right?”

Mickey nodded, “Yeah. Not your fault, he doesn’t know a guy when he sees one,” Mickey finished off his drink, “You’ve got guts though. I couldn’t imagine coming out as trans to Terry. He’d put a bullet in my head right then and there.”

Trevor got quiet for a moment, before asking, “How did you come out to that guy? Couldn’t imagine it was safe.”

“It wasn’t, and it was an accident. He hurt my sister, so I beat the shit out of him. Let it slip I was a fag, and then he busted my head open. Luckily, he did it in public, and now he’s rotting in prison.”

“Good, fuck him.”

Mickey smiled a little, “Y’know, you’re pretty cool too… for a social worker.”

“I can understand that.”

“Really? Because all the other ones didn’t seem to. Calling my mom a bad person, for raising us the best she could. She should have won a medal for dealing with my piece of shit dad.”

“Ian tells me you gotta kid too.”

“So, fuckin’ what?” Mickey snapped, feeling his heartbeat quicken. What was this guy trying to get at?

“Chill, man, I’m not here to take your kid. Besides, I heard some of your conversation, before we came inside. I’ve met a lot of fucked up dads, Mickey, but you’re not one of them.”

Mickey sighed in relief, “Thanks.”

“No problem. Thanks for not breaking Ian’s heart.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“He came to me before, all upset about you. I’m glad you decided to stop being a pussy and date him. I like you a lot better than his last boyfriend.”

His last boyfriend. Mickey knew Ian didn’t like talking about him, if the family dinner on Thursday was anything to go by, “Yeah,” Mickey said, hoping to maybe get some information out of Trevor, “I heard the guy was a dick.”

“Caleb was definitely a dick. Super jealous too, which is funny considering he cheated on Ian the whole time they were together. Made Ian feel like it was all his fault. Honestly, I’m glad he’s not in the picture anymore. He was a manipulative asshole, but hey, not a lot of people can have the patience to understand what Ian has.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “What he has?”

Trevor’s eyes widened, like he said something he wasn’t supposed to. He back tracked, “Yeah, I mean he has been through a lot. Not a lot of people can handle a person with a complicated past.”

Mickey understood that. Though, in the back of his mind, something was telling him that Trevor meant something else. Before Mickey could ask, however, he saw Ian approach them. “There the fuck you are. What, did you fall in?”

Ian grinned, “Nah, I was requesting a song from the DJ. What did I miss?”

“Well, while you were gone, we fell in love,” Trevor shrugged.

“Oh, really?” Ian laughed.

“Yup, lost your chance, Gallagher,” Mickey teased.

“That’s too bad, because I saw a guy checking you out, Trev.”

Trevor became very serious, “Point.”

Ian pointed to a booth, with a lanky blonde guy with glasses, who was indeed staring at them, but blushed and looked away when he saw Trevor staring back at him.

Trevor got up, “Well, fellas, it’s been fun, but now I gotta go shoot my shot.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “What about our spring wedding?”

“Mickey, know that you’ll always be a fond memory in my heart, but it’s time we went our separate ways,” he said, before leaving him and Ian at the bar.

“Guess you’re stuck with me again,” Ian wrapped an arm around Mickey.

“I fuckin’ guess,” Mickey grinned, pulling at Ian’s waist, before leaning in for a kiss.

Ian moaned softly, pushing his tongue inside of Mickey’s mouth.

They kissed for a short while, before the music changed into something that was unmistakable, it was Justin Timberlake’s song, ‘Summer Love’. Mickey pulled away, and groaned in annoyance, “Seriously, Gallagher?”

“What?”

“You know what,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. He remembered this song from a cd Mandy had when they were kids. Mandy would play it so many times, Mickey ended up breaking it in half, and letting her think she lost it.

“C’mon, Mick, dance with me.”

“Oh, no way in hell. I don’t dance”

“Mickey,” Ian murmured in his ear, “Please dance with me. If you dance with me, I’ll do anything you want when we get back to my place, _anything_.”

Mickey bit his lip, thinking about the possibilities. He definitely was thinking with his dick, and not his brain, when he said, “Yeah, ok.”

Ian dragged him to the dance floor, rubbing against him, and swinging his hips before Mickey even knew what was going on.

Mickey felt very self-conscious all of a sudden, pulling out of Ian’s grasp.

Ian furrowed his brow, “Hey, you ok?”

“No, I’m not. I can’t dance, Ian. I’ve never done this with anyone before.”

“It’s ok, here,” Ian said, gently turning Mickey around, so he was pressed up against Mickey’s back, “Look, we’ll go slow. Just feel the rhythm in your hips and move against me.”

Mickey felt awkward at first, but eventually he got the hang of it. He put his arm up behind him, cupping Ian’s face, as he grinded back against him. Mickey felt Ian move his hands up and down his chest, and got lost in the moment, as the music pounded in his ears.

_‘_ _Cause I can't wait to fall in love with you  
You can't wait to fall in love with me  
This just can't be summer love, you'll see  
This just can't be summer love (L-O-V-E)_

_Summer's over for the both of us  
(Summer's over)  
But that doesn't mean we should give up on us  
(Don't give up)  
You're the one that I've been thinkin' of  
(You're the one)  
And I knew the day I met you you'd be the one_

Mickey couldn’t believe it. He was dancing. He was dancing with Ian, and it felt _good_. He felt really good. Mickey would have never thought in a million years that he’d be allowed to do any of this, his dad made sure of that, but Ian made it different. Ian made Mickey feel like he could do anything.

When the music finally ended, Mickey didn’t want to stop. However, he felt Ian place his hands on his hips to stop him, and then Ian turned Mickey around.

“You little liar,” he laughed, leaning in and kissing Mickey’s neck.

“What do you mean?” Mickey sighed, giving Ian more room to keep kissing his neck.

“You _can_ dance.”

Mickey smirked, “Maybe I did watch Dirty Dancing a few times.”

Ian pulled away to stare into Mickey’s eyes, “Thanks for coming with me, Mickey. Also, thanks for dancing with me.”

“No problem, Gallagher. That’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

“Right.”

Suddenly, Trevor appeared next to them, with the blonde boy on his arms, “Hey, guys. I want you to meet Nathan.”

“Hey,” both Ian and Mickey said in unison.

“Hi,” Nathan said shyly, ducking his head. He pulled Trevor closer, clearly a little tipsy.

“So, Nathan,” Ian said, “What do you-”

“Wait, shut up,” Trevor said, holding up his hand, “Holy shit, I love this song!”

Mickey listened to what was playing, which was ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’, by ABBA. Mickey did really like that song too, and he let Ian pull him along into another dance, because he could do that now with no fear. So, he danced with Ian into the night, letting their bodies guide each other, while he wondered to himself how he got so lucky.

In the morning, Mickey woke up with Ian wrapped around his body. It felt so good, that he didn’t want to move, but eventually they had to. So, they got up and showered, before getting dressed to go to the Sox game.

When they arrived at the Milkovich residence, Ian hung back to call Trevor, while Mickey headed inside. When Mickey stepped into the house, he was immediately greeted by Yevgeny, running up to hug him. Mickey crouched down, and scooped him up into a tight hug, “Hey, buddy,” he said, kissing Yevgeny on top of the head, “cool face paint.”

Yevgeny grinned at him, half his face painted white, with the Sox logo painted on his cheek in black and silver.

“Wow, Yev,” Ian said, stepping in behind Mickey, “you look ready to go. Did your aunt do that for you?”

“No, mommy did.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “What?” he asked, just as Svetlana stepped out into the living room from the kitchen.

“His face is nice, yes?”

Mickey would never admit it out loud, but he felt a great rush of relief to see the Russian woman again. The last time he saw her, he knew she was in a bad spot. He didn’t know when she’d be back, and it was hard, because he knew Yevgeny was starting to miss her terribly, even if the young boy had spent longer periods away from his mom before. Mickey knew it was the fear of not knowing where she was. In any case, he was glad to have her back.

“I think it looks great,” Ian said, who sounded just as relieved as Mickey felt.

“Yeah,” Mickey said, putting Yevgeny down, “when did you get back?”

“Last night, after I got off the phone with you,” Yevgeny piped up.

Mickey stared at Svetlana, who stared back with equal understanding. They had a lot to talk about.

“You two hungry?” she asked, changing the subject, “I made waffles.”

“Mama makes the best waffles,” Yevgeny gushed, grabbing onto Ian’s hand, “C’mon, Ian, you gotta try them.”

“Ok,” Ian said with a laugh, as he allowed Yevgeny to pull him into the kitchen.

Mickey walked behind them, until he got to Svetlana, and then stopped, “How was your trip?”

Svetlana stayed silent for a moment, before she shrugged, “Successful.”

Mickey nodded, “Good. We need to talk though, later tonight.”

“Later tonight,” she agreed, “but right now, breakfast. Come, I want you to eat my waffle.”

Mickey grimaced at Svetlana’s choice of wording, as he followed her into the kitchen, where Ian was already sitting down at the table. He took a seat across from him, and Svetlana started making them both a plate.

“So, I guess Trevor isn’t coming with us,” Ian said, as Svetlana set a plate in front of him.

“Really, why?”

“Just got called over to a client’s house. He’ll be busy all day.”

“Sucks to be him, I guess,” Mickey said, digging into his waffles once Svetlana set his plate down.

Ian rolled his eyes and picked up his fork, “It’d be a shame to let his ticket go to waste. Any of your family want to come with us?”

“Probably not. My brothers are out on a camping trip, and Mandy would rather die than go to a baseball game.”

Ian looked to Svetlana, “How about you?”

“Sports are not my thing. Besides, I’ve had a very long trip. Must rest, before I get the rest of my things from old apartment.”

“Right,” Ian said, looking nervous, “How was it by the way? Your trip, I mean.”

“It was good. I visited an old friend. Runs pig farm in other state.”

Ian huffed out a sigh of relief, “Oh, yeah? Farms sound nice.”

“They are. Incredibly quiet, no one is around for miles. A person could scream for hours and nobody would know. The pigs were nasty little things though. They’ll eat anything you throw into their pen.”

“Oh my god,” Ian muttered, his face going white. He pushed his plate away, “I think I’m done eating.” 

Mickey swallowed his mouthful of food, before he said, “So, you movin’ back in then?”

Svetlana nodded, “Seems this way, yes. Is that still ok?”

“Yeah.”

Yevgeny grinned ear to ear, “I’m glad you’re staying with us, mama. Now, I get to be with both of you at the same time.”

Svetlana chuckled, and then kissed her son on the head, as Sandy walked into the kitchen.

“Will aunt Nika come to stay with us too?”

“No, my darling, Nika will have to find someone else to stay with.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Nika?”

“Aunt Nika is mom’s work friend. Sometimes she stays with us and babysits me.”

“And how long has she been doin’ that?”

“None of your concern,” Svetlana said airily, “I do not question you, when you bring little carrot boys into your bed.”

“Oh, so now she’s in your bed?”

“Yvon would leave often, and sometimes the nights would get cold. It’s nice to have good friend with warm body by your side,” Svetlana leaned in close behind Mickey, her mouth right next to his ear, “and a strong tongue,” she whispered, before smacking Mickey lightly upside the head, and then straightened up, “No more Nika questions.”

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, watching Sandy grab a beer from the fridge, and then come over to sit at the table.

“Hey,” Mickey greeted, “I thought you’d be camping with the guys.”

Sandy scoffed, as she popped off the cap and took a swig of her beer, “Fuck no. Two days in the woods with those assholes, I’d fucking drown myself in the river.”

Ian’s face brightened, as if he’d just gotten an idea, “Hey, Sandy, you wouldn’t want to come to the Sox game with us, would you?”

“Yeah!” Yevgeny smiled wide, “come with us, Aunt Sandy!”

Sandy smirked, “Sure, why not? But I’m only going to hang out with this little cutie all day,” she said, ruffling Yevgeny’s hair, before getting up, “I’m ready when you guys are.”

“Great, let’s go,” Mickey said, standing up. He waited for Yevgeny to give his mom a hug and kiss goodbye, and then he, Ian, Yevgeny, and now Sandy, headed out to Ian’s car.

When they walked into the stadium, Ian immediately went over to a booth that sold White Sox hats and got one for Yevgeny. The child beamed with pride when Ian handed it to him. Ian then got a few pictures with Mickey, Yevgeny, and Sandy, before leading them to an elevator.

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Where are our seats, again?”

“We’re not sitting in the stands. Fiona rented a private suite.”

“A private what?”

Ian just chuckled, stepping into the elevator, “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Mickey stepped in behind Yevgeny and Sandy before they rode the elevator up to the private suite Ian was talking about. When they entered the room, both Mickey and Sandy’s jaws dropped. It was a room with nice, cushioned chairs overlooking the baseball field. There were also a couple tables with food on them. It looked kind of like a fancy conference room, but with theatre seats and food.

The Gallaghers were all there, minus Frank. In fact, Mickey hadn’t seen Frank since his fight with him at Ian’s house. Mickey thought it was right that the old bastard kept his distance. Also, in attendance was Carl’s girlfriend Kelly, Jimmy, and Tami, who waved happily at Sandy when she saw her, and then flipped Mickey off when she saw him.

Ian was already talking to Fiona and Jimmy, and Yevgeny ran to go hang out with Liam, while Mickey and Sandy still stood near the door, dumbfounded.

“Holy shit,” Sandy said under her breath, “so, Ian’s like _rich_ rich.”

“Yeah.”

Sandy turned to him, “Mickey, you have to marry him.”

Mickey’s eyes widened, “ _What_?”

“I swear to god, you do it, or I will.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Sure, that will work out.”

“It will. We’ll have a big, beautiful, lavender wedding, and then I’ll live happily ever after in a big mansion, sleeping with rich women from high society. You can come by if you don’t piss me off.”

Mickey flipped her off, and then walked up to Ian, who slipped his arm around Mickey’s waist. It felt so natural, and Mickey smiled.

“Uncle Ian!” Franny called out, running over to Ian, but ran face first into Sandy’s leg, when Sandy was walking over to meet up with Mickey.

Franny fell backwards, blinking a few times, probably wondering what just happened.

“Woah, you ok, kid?” Sandy asked, helping the little girl to her feet.

“Yeah,” Franny nodded, “I sorry.”

“Franny,” Debbie said, coming over to her daughter, “What did I say about watching where you were going?”

“Sorry, mommy.”

“It’s fine,” Sandy said, “she didn’t break my leg, or anything like that.”

Debbie took her attention off Franny, and looked to Sandy, her jaw going a little slack.

“Oh,” Ian said, like he almost forgot, “guys, this is Sandy. She’s Mickey’s cousin.”

“Hi,” Sandy said, as if she were addressing the whole room, but she didn’t take her eyes off Debbie.

Debbie’s face broke out into a goofy grin, “Hi, I’m uh- I’m-”

“Debbie. Your name is Debbie,” Lip rolled his eyes.

“Debbie,” she said, “and this is Franny, my daughter.”

Sandy nodded, “Cute kid.”

Debbie grinned wider, “She is. Do you like kids?”

“Love them.”

Mickey shook his head, “No you don-”

Sandy quickly stomped on Mickey’s foot, causing him to shout out, and nearly fall over. Luckily, Ian caught him by the shoulders. “Y’know,” she said, “I should be really pissed at Ian. He never told me he had a really cute sister.”

Debbie blushed, “Well, Mickey never said he had a super hot cousin.”

Sandy laughed, “You wanna sit together when the game starts?”

“I usually don’t watch the game. I hate sports. I usually just come to take selfies and pretend like I’m having a good time. Unless, of course, you like sports, then yeah, I’d love to watch the game, or whatever,” she said, twirling her hair with her finger.

“Or whatever,” Sandy grinned, and it made Mickey want to throw up.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, and then grabbed Ian’s hand, “C’mon, let’s sit down. The game’s about to start.”

Ian smiled, before taking a seat with Mickey, not letting go of his hand, as they watched the players take the field.

When the game was over, they all walked out together as a group. Mickey was carrying Yevgeny on his hip, while Ian was walking next to him, holding Mickey’s hand. They were all laughing and having a good time, when a voice caught their attention.

“Ian!” it called out, causing the redhead to stop, his face full of shock and confusion.

Mickey stopped as well, a frown forming on his face. He examined Ian’s worried state, and then looked over at the other Gallaghers to see they had stopped too, also wearing the same look of concern that Ian did. Mickey watched as Ian slowly turned around, so Mickey turned too, and was faced with two people jogging to catch up with them, a guy, and a girl.

Mickey’s first thought was that the guy was good looking. A clean shaven, young black guy, who looked to be around Ian and Mickey’s age. He was muscular and fit, obviously, by the way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he jogged. He was also smiling, showing off his perfect teeth. The girl next to him looked just about as perfect as he did, though she was not smiling. In fact, Mickey could sense she looked a little annoyed that the guy was practically dragging her over to them.

At this point, everyone had stopped and turned around, coming up to stand next to Mickey and Ian. Mickey looked to Lip and Fiona, who looked angry and protective. He looked over to Debbie, Carl, Liam, and Jimmy, who looked the same way. Mickey shared a confused look with Sandy and Tami, before the couple made it all the way to their group.

“Ian, hey,” the guy said, still smiling. He stopped right in front of Ian, who seemed to shrink back.

Mickey then became very aware, straightening his back and crossing his arms, hoping to intimidate the guy, and ready to jump him if Ian needed Mickey to. There was something off about these people, but Mickey didn’t know what. Everyone else seemed to know but him, judging by the way Ian and his siblings were acting.

A tense silence filled the air, causing Yevgeny to hold on tighter to Mickey’s neck. A few seconds went by without anyone saying anything, until finally, Ian spoke up.

“Hey, Caleb, how have you been?”

The first thing that came to Mickey’s mind was concern, because Ian sounded scared. Scared and distressed. The second thing that came to Mickey’s mind was recognition. It was the name Caleb. He’d heard it before, and then suddenly he remembered from where. It was Ian’s ex.

With renowned anger coursing through him, Mickey set his stare on Caleb, glaring at him, hoping he’d make one wrong move so Mickey could knock him on his ass. He didn’t know exactly what this guy did to Ian, but judging from the Gallaghers’ expressions now, and their expressions when Caleb’s name was brought up in the past, it wasn’t good.

Caleb smirked, his eyes scanning Ian up and down, “I’ve been good. Y’know, can’t complain. Jobs been keeping me busy. Well, that and Denise,” he said, pulling the girl next to him closer, “We’re getting married next summer.”

Denise’s annoyed look turned into one of jubilation, as she smiled up at them. Well, more like as she smiled up at Ian, as if to say she’d won.

Ian swallowed hard, “Married, huh?” His voice was strong, but it still had a hint of anxiety to it, and it seemed like Mickey wasn’t the only one who noticed, as Fiona and Lip broke their stare on Caleb to glance over at Ian. Ian, however, kept his eyes trained on Caleb when he said, “Congratulations.”

“So, we should be expecting our invitations in the mail then?” questioned Lip, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He brought his eyes back to Caleb and Fiona did the same.

Caleb chuckled, “I definitely missed that quick wit of yours, Lip.”

“Thanks, I don’t miss anything about you at all.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that. Just because Ian and I aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean we have to be hostile to one another.”

“Actually, I think it does.”

“So, what your stalking our brother now? Is that it? You ruining his life wasn’t enough, that you had to come back and throw it up in his face again?” Fiona interrupted, causing Caleb to turn to her.

“No, not at all. I wanted to talk to Ian, but I couldn’t set anything up, because he wouldn’t answer my calls.”

“Yeah, because I blocked your number.”

“I ran into your dad yesterday at Starbucks. We got to talking and he gave me two tickets to the game and said you’d be here. I saw you at one of the merchandise tables, but I thought I’d catch up with you after the game.”

Ian blinked in confusion, “My dad?”

“Yeah, he said you’d be happy to see me. Though, judging by how your acting right now, I guess he was wrong.”

“Goddamn Frank,” Fiona muttered under her breath.

“What do you want from me?”

Caleb shrugged, and then said, “I thought we could talk.”

“About what, Caleb?” Ian asked with exasperation.

“About us, man. About why you’ve been ignoring me? Look, I know we ended things on a bad note, but I don’t see why that gives you the right to just cut me out of your life. I always thought we’d stay friends.”

Ian narrowed his eyes, “Are you serious? After what you did? You really think I’d want to stay in contact with you after the shit you pulled? You think I should just forget, and pretend like nothing happened?”

“No,” Caleb said carefully, “I just thought you’d be a little more mature about the situation. Though I guess it makes sense. You were always the impulsive one in the relationship.”

“You want me to be mature? You fucking cheated on me!” Ian yelled, so loud and so suddenly, it caused both Sandy and Tami to jump, while Yevgeny buried his face into Mickey’s neck. Ian was seething now. He pointed his finger at Caleb’s chest, “You cheated on me! And not just this recent time, but the entire four years we were together! You made it seem like it was my fault when you were the one with the problem! You were the one that needed help! Now, you want to turn it around on me again, like you’re not the entire reason we were on and off over the years?! Fuck you!”

Caleb stared hard at Ian for a few seconds, before giving him a humorless chuckle, “Same old Ian.”

Denise pulled on Caleb’s arm, “Let’s just go, baby. He’s not worth it.”

“No, I guess he’s not,” Caleb agreed, ready to be led away by his fiancé when he caught Mickey’s eye. He must have seen the visceral hatred in Mickey, because he said, “Do we have a problem?”

Everyone turned to Mickey, who just kept staring, “What do you think?”

Caleb shrugged, “I don’t even know who you are, man. What are you, like a family friend or a cousin?”

“I’m Ian’s boyfriend.”

Caleb’s eyebrows raised at that, “Ian’s boyfriend?”

“That’s right.”

“And we all like him better than you,” Lip pointed out, with the other Gallagher siblings nodding their heads in agreement. It was an arbitrary point to make, but Mickey appreciated it anyway.

“Seriously?” Caleb turned to Ian, “We broke up like what? six months ago?”

“Yeah, that’s half a year, Caleb! You were dating Denise while we were still together!”

Caleb shook his head in disbelief, “You’ll never let me live that down. You always make me look like the villain.”

“You made yourself look that way,” Ian said, standing up a little taller, gaining confidence.

“Do you know what kind of hell you put me through? I’m lucky I didn’t go crazy too with all the shit you pulled. You know, Ian, you always try to make everyone around you look worse, because deep down you know you’re the reason why no guy wants to stick with you. I mean, nobody sleeps around for no reason. You drove me to it.”

The air was dead silent. Mickey glanced over at Ian, who had tears in his eyes, and was trying to steady his breathing. Mickey should have handed Yevgeny to someone else and comfort Ian, but his mind was stuck on Caleb’s words. What Ian did? What could Ian have done to Caleb to make him cheat? It didn’t make any sense. Mickey couldn’t think of one reason that could justify Ian being cheated on, or how he was being talked to. It just didn’t make any sense, and Mickey was starting to get that uneasy feeling again. The feeling that he wasn’t getting the full picture. That Ian was hiding something.

Lip took a step forward, as if he were going to square up, “Get out of here, Caleb. I think it’s obvious no one wants you here,” he said, his voice like ice.

Caleb rolled his eyes, and huffed, “Message received loud and clear,” he looked to Mickey, “Have fun dealing with this piece of work. I hope you deal with it better than I did.”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “What?”

“Ok, you need to leave now,” Fiona said forcefully.

“Wait,” Caleb stopped suddenly, the gears obviously turning in his head, “you don’t know?”

“Caleb don’t,” Ian pleaded.

“Know what?” Mickey questioned, and then looked to Ian to see utter terror in the other boy’s eyes. That’s when Mickey knew. He knew that this was it. This was what Ian had been keeping from him.

Caleb let his eyes shift between Ian and Mickey, before laughing. So much so, that he was holding his stomach. He glanced over at Ian just to say, “You really didn’t tell him, did you? What, were you just going to wait until he found out on his own?”

“Listen, asshole,” Mickey snapped, “Either tell me what you’re talking about, or get the fuck outta my face. Because I’m about two seconds from putting my kid down to kick your ass.”

“I’m talking about his bipolar disorder,” Caleb said, turning to Mickey.

Mickey blinked a few times, “What?” He looked over to Ian, who had tears streaming down his face. “That thing your mom had?”

Ian didn’t say anything but shrunk in on himself.

“Bingo,” Caleb said, bringing Mickey’s attention back towards him, “I’m surprised he’s been able to hide it from you this long, but Ian’s not very trusting when it comes to that sort of stuff. I mean, you had to have noticed it at some point. The medication. How everyone kind of tiptoes around him, trying not to make him upset. Sometimes he might disappear on you for a few days. Any of that sound about right?”

Mickey wanted to speak, but his mouth couldn’t make any sounds. His head was still reeling from the fact that Ian had bipolar disorder, and that he felt like he couldn’t tell Mickey about it. Why did Ian feel that way? Didn’t he trust him?

Caleb searched Mickey’s eyes for the answer to his question, “Yes? No?”

Mickey didn’t answer.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure he had a good reason not to tell you. Right, Ian?”

Mickey looked to Ian and his heart broke at the sight of his boyfriend so distressed. He looked the same as he did the morning Mickey found out about Frank hitting him. He wanted to comfort Ian. He wanted to take Ian into his arms, but Mickey didn’t move. He could only stare.

“Ian,” Lip said, carefully stepping up next to his brother, putting his hand on Ian’s shoulder.

Ian brushed him off, shaking his head. He looked to Mickey, who was still frozen in his spot, “I’m sorry, Mickey,” he said, and then slowly started backing away.

Mickey took a step forward, “Ian.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, before turning around, and running off toward the parking lot.

“Ian!” Mickey called out, but he didn’t move. He held onto Yevgeny tighter, as he watched Ian disappear between the parked cars.

“Yup, same old Ian,” Caleb said, causing Mickey to turn back to him. He was ready to put Yevgeny down and tackle the guy when someone else beat him too it.

In an instant, Fiona stepped up to Caleb, and punched him the face.

Caleb fell backwards, causing Denise to scream, before putting her hand over her mouth.

Fiona crouched down next to Caleb, her eyes menacing, “I don’t want to see you near my brother again. I don’t want you trying to contact him, and I don’t want you trying to find him. He’s over you. So, take your little home wrecker, and get the fuck away from me, before I murder you with my bare hands,” she stood up then, “Stay away from Ian. I mean it.”

Denise pulled Caleb up, glaring at Fiona. Then they both left in the other direction.

Mickey kept his eye trained on the couple, still wanting to kick Caleb’s ass, even though Fiona more than enough made her point.

Jimmy stepped up and put a comforting hand on Fiona’s shoulder.

Fiona accepted it by putting her hand over his. She then looked back at Lip, “Did you see where Ian went to?”

“No, I lost sight of him. Probably back to his car.”

“This isn’t good.”

“Daddy, is Ian going to be ok?” Yevgeny asked, in a small voice.

 _‘This isn’t good,’_ Mickey heard Fiona’s voice play over and over again in his head, “Shit,” he hissed, before handing Yevgeny to Sandy, “here.”

Sandy took him, “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” he said, before turning around to follow where Ian went.

“Mickey,” Lip said, grabbing onto his shoulder, “this isn’t Ian’s fault. Don’t be mad at him.”

“I know, and I’m not,” Mickey assured, “I’m gonna find him. I’ll talk to him.”

Lip nodded, letting him go.

Mickey then took off towards the cars, weaving through them to get to his and Ian’s parking spot, but when he got there, Ian’s car was gone. “Fuck!” Mickey panicked, looking around, hoping that maybe he was just in the wrong spot. He called out Ian’s name as he looked.

When he finally searched what felt like the whole section of the parking lot, Mickey knew that Ian had left the stadium. His stomach dropped, as his phone started buzzing. He quickly fished it out of his pocket to see that it was Lip. Mickey let it go to voicemail, as he thought about what his next plan was, and then suddenly, he knew.

It took half an hour to get back to his house. Mickey almost got hit twelve time crossing the street, but he was in a rush. Somewhere in his stupid brain, he thought that maybe Ian drove back to his house to see Mandy. It was wishful thinking, but it was his only idea, unless Ian drove back to Forest Glen. He tried calling both Ian and Mandy about five hundred times on his way there, but neither of them would pick up.

Mickey nearly shit himself, when he got to his street, and saw the bright red Jeep parked next to his house. Mickey picked up speed, running up his front steps and throwing the door open. “Ian!” he shouted, but the living room was empty. He ran to the kitchen, and then cursed, because it was empty too. However, he did see Mandy’s cellphone laying on the kitchen table. “Ian!” Mickey called out again, going into his room, and then his bathroom.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mickey muttered, going out of his bedroom, and toward the hallway bathroom, getting halfway there, when Mandy’s door opened and she stepped out, completely oblivious to what was going on, because she was listening to her iPod.

Mickey grabbed her shoulder, causing her to scream, and then turn around.

“Asshole!” she snapped, pushing at Mickey, before taking her earbuds out, “Why the fuck did you scare me like that?!”

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone, bitch?!” Mickey yelled back a little harsher than he intended, but he was starting to really freak out.

Mandy stepped back a bit, softening her voice, “I was taking a shower and getting dressed. I left my phone in the kitchen,” she said, before furrowing her brow, “Mickey, what’s wrong?”

Mickey felt his breath hitch, “Is Ian in there with you?” he questioned, looking into her empty room.

“No? I thought you guys went to a baseball game.”

“We did but, fuck,” he said, running a shaky hand through his hair, “I lost Ian.”

Mandy’s eyes widened, “What do you mean you lost Ian?”

“After the game we ran into Ian’s ex, and he was saying all this shit about Ian, and I was going to kick his ass actually, but Fiona beat me to it. And apparently, he has bipolar disorder, and-”

“Woah,” Mandy said, cutting him off, “Ian told you.”

Mickey’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, “You knew? Why the fuck would he tell you, and not me?”

“I found out on accident, but can you really blame him for not wanting to tell you?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you’re not the easiest person to talk to.”

“It’s different between us,” Mickey insisted, while Mandy just raised an eyebrow, “It is!”

“Whatever, it’s not important right now. Why is Ian lost?”

“He ran away when his shitty fucking ex exposed him in front of everybody. I came here hoping I’d find him, and his car _is_ here, but he’s not in the house.”

“Ok,” Mandy said, hurrying into the living room, with Mickey on her heels, “I’ll check the backyard, and you go check out front. If he came here in his car, he has to be close by. If he’s not around here, we’ll go by the Alibi and look.”

Mickey nodded, and then him and Mandy parted ways, and Mickey went back out through the front door. He quickly looked through the car windows, making sure Ian wasn’t in there the whole time and Mickey just missed him. When he saw that he wasn’t, Mickey went down the street, calling out Ian’s name.

Mickey passed the alleyway near his house, still shouting for Ian, when suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. Mickey looked down the alleyway, and sighed in relief, jogging up to Ian, who was sitting against the dumpster, mindlessly opening, and closing his silver knife.

Mickey felt like he could cry, “Ian, what the fuck? You scared the shit out of everyone. Why’d you run off like that?”

Ian didn’t answer. He kept his eyes trained on his knife, as if he didn’t even know Mickey was in front of him.

Mickey crouched down, trying to get eyelevel with Ian. He gently wrapped his hand around the other boy’s wrist, “Ian? Hey, Ian, look at me?”

Ian didn’t look up at first, but he did stop fiddling with the knife. He then worked his way up to face Mickey, his eyes flickering upward, looking up at Mickey through his eyelashes. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his face was tearstained. Red and splotchy, like it had been rubbed raw.

“Hey,” Mickey said again, taking his hand off Ian’s wrist. He then cupped Ian’s face, running his thumb over Ian’s cheekbone. Maybe he was hoping he could wipe the sadness and pain away. All he wanted to do was comfort Ian. It didn’t matter to him if Ian was bipolar. Why would it? Though, Mickey could see now why Ian would be so hesitant. His ex-boyfriend used it to humiliate him in front of Mickey and everyone else. However, it didn’t explain why Ian didn’t tell Mickey specifically. It wasn’t like Mickey thought he deserved to know; he was just confused. Mickey gazed deep into Ian’s eyes, “Talk to me.”

“What about?” Ian questioned, his voice coming out broken and raw.

“Jesus Christ, Ian,” Mickey sighed, “you know what about.”

Ian pulled away from him then, turning his head away to look at the ground, “No, I don’t.”

Mickey let out a little huff of annoyance, “Ok, you really want me to spell it out for you? The bipolar disorder, Ian. Let’s talk about that, hm?”

Ian didn’t say anything but kept eyes on the asphalt.

Mickey shook his head, before letting go of Ian, and then situating himself in a sitting position next to him. Mickey leaned back against the brick wall, and then waited for a response. Maybe Ian thought he could just stay silent, wait it out, but that wasn’t going to happen. Mickey was too stubborn, and this was too important for him to just brush it off. Mickey wasn’t going anywhere.

After about ten minutes, Ian finally spoke. His head didn’t move, as he continued to stare ahead, but his voice was soft. So soft, Mickey almost missed it when Ian said, “Do you hate me?”

Mickey was taken aback. He looked to Ian, who was now meeting his gaze. Mickey could tell Ian was about to cry again. So, he tried to comfort Ian the best way he could, when he answered back, “No. No, Ian, of course not.”

“But I lied to you.”

“You didn’t lie. You just didn’t tell me.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it isn’t. Besides, even if it was, it’s none of my business anyway. You’re not obligated to tell me that kind of shit. I’m not entitled to know that about you. It’s up to you, if and when you want to tell me.”

Ian let out a humorless chuckle, “Am I supposed to believe that?”

Mickey furrowed his brow, “Don’t know why the fuck you wouldn’t.”

“Don’t try and act like it doesn’t bother you,” Ian smiled at him ruefully through watery tears, “I can take lashing out. I can take the rejection. But don’t fucking lie to me, Mickey. Don’t coddle me, and pet me, and pretend that it’ll all be ok.”

“Lie to you about what?! What the fuck are you talking about?!” Mickey finally snapped. He was at his wits end. He understood why Ian needed to get away, he understood that Ian wanted to keep his disorder a secret, but what he didn’t understand, was why Ian was so adamant that Mickey was lying to him, tricking him. Mickey didn’t get it.

“Stop!” Ian finally barked out, pushing Mickey away from him, “Stop fucking acting like you don’t know!”

“Know what?!”

Ian started crying again. No, not crying, sobbing. He put his face in his hands and he sobbed.

Mickey, now feeling like shit because he just made it worse, put his arms around Ian. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ian didn’t push him away, but instead buried his head in Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey ran his hand up and down Ian’s back, trying to soothe him the best he could.

When Ian calmed down, he pulled away. Wiping at his eyes, he said, “Do you remember when I first talked to you about Monica? We were in bed. You had talked to Lip earlier that day, and he told you about me breaking my collarbone when I was eleven.”

Mickey nodded, not really knowing how that was relevant, but he didn’t voice his concerns out loud.

“Do you remember what you said to me about her?”

Mickey thought for a moment. He remembered that night. He remembered Ian crying on his shoulder just like he was doing now. He remembered Ian talking about his mom, and then talking about Frank. He didn’t, however, remember what he said to Ian. Probably something along the lines of how fucked up both his parents are. Finally, Mickey shook his head, “No, I don’t. What did I say?”

“You said, _‘I could never do it, live with someone like that. She sounds like a fucking nightmare’_.”

Mickey blanched, “Oh,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah,” Ian sniffled, “I wanted to tell you so many times, Mickey. I wanted to tell you on our first date after I got into that fight at the Alibi. I wanted to tell you when we were talking in bed. I wanted to tell you when I got in that fight with Frank. I took you to my mom’s garden, and I wanted to tell you then, but…”

Mickey remembered. Ian was telling him something about his mom, and Mickey called her a psycho. He felt a hard lump form at the pit of his stomach. The feeling he always felt when he was guilty. This was immense guilt. No wonder Ian didn’t tell him. No wonder Ian didn’t trust him. “Ian, I- Ian I didn’t mean to- what I meant was- fuck,” he sighed, putting his face in his hands.

“It’s ok, Mickey,” Ian said, gently removing his head from Mickey shoulder, moving back into a sitting position against the wall.

Mickey shook his head, “No. No the fuck it isn’t.”

“Yeah, it is, ok? I get it, Mick.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” he said, looking back up at Ian. Ian, his boyfriend. Ian, the man he was falling in love with. Mickey looked at him with all the sincerity he could muster, and said, “Ian, I don’t care if you have bipolar disorder.”

Ian gave him a withering look.

“I’m fucking serious.”

Ian scoffed, “Sure.”

Mickey felt hurt bubble up inside him, “Why are you acting like this? What’s your problem?”

“You wanna know what my problem is?!” Ian shouted suddenly, but Mickey didn’t flinch. Ian stood up then, his eyes angry and red, threatening to spill fresh tears across his already splotchy cheeks, “Four weeks!” he cried, “four fucking weeks in basic training and I lose my shit! They couldn’t take it anymore and had me discharged! Told me I wasn’t cut out for the army, and to get some mental help! I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t fucking know how bad it was! So, I fucking left!” he was breathing hard, and then looked down at a stunned Mickey. “I fucking left,” he said again, his voice barely a whisper.”

Mickey didn’t say anything, he was afraid to. He didn’t want to say anything to scare Ian away from talking about this. From how Ian was acting, Mickey could tell this was long overdue. Usually, it was him that had all the baggage, all the emotional problems, but not this time. This time it was Ian, and Mickey would sit patiently and listen, like Ian did for him, time and time again.

A long moment of silence stretched between the two, before Ian said, “I- I was lost. I didn’t know where to go from there. I was afraid that if I went home, my siblings would be disappointed in me, and I knew Frank wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. Also, if I went back, they’d ask me why I was kicked out. I was afraid they’d tell me the same thing the army did, y’know? Get mental help. I didn’t think I needed it. That kinda stuff were for people like my mom, and I didn’t want to be like her.”

Mickey nodded, listening intently.

That caused Ian to sit back down next to Mickey.

Mickey gave him a small smile, pulling the other boy close to him.

Ian laid his head on Mickey’s chest, and then sighed contently when Mickey started to card his fingers through Ian’s hair.

“So, that’s why you decided to strip?” it wasn’t an accusatory question, but only curiosity.

Ian nodded, “It was fast money. Those days it felt like everything was going fast. The job, the drugs, the sex, it was like day and night blurred together and it created this sort of limbo where time didn’t exist. On minute I’d be up on stage, the next I’d be dropping acid in the bathroom. The nights usually ended with men taking me to their hotel rooms, or in the back room of the club, or out in the alleyway. I-,” Ian swallowed harshly, “I don’t know what all I did, and how many of them I did it with. Sometimes it would be with multiple people at once. All I know is that I didn’t bottom. Even in my drugged out manic state, I didn’t let anyone touch me like that. It’s always been that way, me topping, even with the guys from the country club. I don’t know, I think maybe it was about control. If I was topping then I was in control of the situation, right? It meant they weren’t taking advantage of me.”

“Oh, Ian,” Mickey said softly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He leaned down and kissed his boyfriend on the top of his head, “How the fuck did you even get away from all that?”

“It’d be a few months, but finally I was offered an out. One night after work, I passed out in the middle of the snow. I was only wearing a tank top and jeans, and I almost froze to death. Trevor found me; he was walking out of the club with some of his friends. They picked me up and took me with them. Apparently, Trevor deemed my case not severe enough to put me in the hospital, but he took me back to his apartment for the night and he watched over me until I woke up.”

“What happened then?”

“Trevor got me some food, and then offered to take me to a shelter he volunteered at. He told me how he found me. It freaked me out. The fact that I could have died that night. Yet, even after that, I still wanted to go back. I just felt like I needed to go back to work. Trevor tried convincing me to stay and it almost didn’t work, but he said that I needed to rest my body, and that if I just called out for the week, I can go back feeling better, and I wouldn’t risk passing out again.”

“He was trying to distance you.”

Ian nodded, “I stayed at the shelter the entire week. I rested up, I helped when they needed it. It was nice, y’know? I’d been on my own since I got discharged, and it was the first time in a while I get to sleep somewhere that wasn’t in the back of a club or a stranger’s bed. I got to eat regularly. No one wanted anything from me. No one wanted my money or my body, they just wanted to make sure I had a place to sleep and food to eat. I mean, I grew up with money, I never had to worry about whether or not I’d have enough food to eat, or a roof over my head, or clothes that were warm enough. I had no idea what that was like before I left for the army, but I lived through it. Those months I was homeless, I had no idea what I was doing, or what was going to happen to me. It humbled me, I guess. Those people who worked at the shelter helped me just out of the kindness of their heart, and when the week was finally up, after staying there and going to the group therapy sessions Trevor invited me to, I didn’t want to go back to the club.”

Mickey rubbed Ian’s shoulder, feeling an overwhelming amount of awe. He was proud of Ian getting out of the situation he was in, for letting people help him. It all dawned on him then, “That’s why you funded Trevor’s youth shelter.”

“They’re just like me, Mick. They’re lost kids, who’ve been through a lot. You should know better than anyone what it’s like to be hiding and scared. What shit like that can drive a gay kid to do. The fear, the loneliness, it’s all universal. I just wanted to help like I was helped. That’s why I want to become an EMT. A lot of people they get called for have untreated mental disorders. I can understand them.”

“You do, Ian. You’re gonna be a great EMT.”

“Maybe not,” he murmured, burying his face deeper into Mickey’s chest.

Mickey furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“They rejected my application.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I found out yesterday morning.”

“Why?”

Ian’s breath hitched, and leaked a few more tears onto Mickey’s shirt, “Because when they asked if I had any mental health issues, I put yes, like a fucking idiot. I should have just fucking lied.”

“That’s bullshit!” Mickey snapped, causing Ian to sit up and look at him, “Didn’t you have like the highest grade in the class or some shit like that?”

“I scored one hundred percent on both my written test and my physical training.”

“Then what the fuck? Why can’t they hire you? What does it matter if you’ve proven you can do it?”

“Because when a paramedic gets called to your house and it’s because you’ve had a psychotic break, they see you at your lowest. People start thinking that’s how you are all the time. Tv makes us look like crazy people, and they make it seem like we could fly off the handle at any minute. That’s not how it works. I get extreme highs and lows, so I take medication. It’s supposed to keep me balanced out, but it’s not a cure. I don’t need to be cured anyway, because what I have can be managed if I take care of myself. Sometimes I get too stressed and the meds stop working. Sometimes the meds stop working just because. Sometimes I stop taking them for a while and I go into a manic episode. Sometimes I get delusions, or when I get depressed, I start feeling suicidal. If I feel myself getting too in over my head, I’ll make an appointment with my psychiatrist. I regularly medicate and I go to therapy. My disorder has never affected my work ethic. I can do this job, but… I guess people will always see me as my mistakes.”

Mickey didn’t know what to say. When he got rejected for jobs, it was because of his criminal record, but what Ian was going through was different. Ian is the most competent and compassionate person Mickey knows. He was made for that job, and then to get his dreams crushed like that. It wasn’t like he was unqualified; they’d be lucky to have Ian. The more mickey thought about it, the more pissed off he got. “That is so messed up.”

“It is what it is.”

“No, it fuckin’ ain’t. Isn’t it like illegal to not hire someone if they’re physically handicapped, or if they’re queer, or a different race?”

“Yeah, it’s discrimination.”

“Well, go fuckin’ tell them that.”

“I don’t know,” Ian murmured, looking to the ground, “maybe they’re right.”

“Like fuck they are!”

“No, I’m serious, Mickey. I’ve done some… questionable things.”

“Ian, you’re talking to the inventor of ‘questionable things’. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Ian shook his head, “You don’t even know.”

“Then try explain it to me.”

“I mean, you heard Caleb, right? I don’t blame him for not wanting to stick with me, even if he is a manipulative prick who cheated. He was with me since the beginning of it. I met him at a club a few months after I got back home. He was there to see all of it.”

“All of what?”

Ian was quiet for a moment, before saying, “Trevor was the one who convinced me to go back home. I’m glad I did, because they’d been looking for me, but I wasn’t in a good place then, and I feel like I caused them a lot of unnecessary stress. When I reunited with my family again, I thought everything would go back to the way it was, but I was different, and they could see it too. I knew they were starting to put the pieces together, I was still manic at the time, but of course, I didn’t realize it. They knew for sure when I had my first depressive episode, and I wouldn’t get out of bed for days. They didn’t say anything to me about it. I think it was because they didn’t want me running off again. I could tell though. I could tell there was something about me that made them scared to bring it up. It just reminded me of when the Army said that I needed mental help.

When I finally got out of it, I thought that would be the end of it. I felt great, obviously, so I couldn’t tell how fucking worried everyone was. I was partying all night, going back to the clubs, doing drugs, sleeping with guys. I wasn’t stripping anymore, but I was still out at all hours of the night. That’s when I met Caleb, and at first, he was great. I wanted to spend all my time with him, and then I moved in with him almost right away. That’s when my family really started to worry. They were more vocal about my behavior; Fiona and I would get into fights. The whole family was on edge, because Debbie just had Franny, and other than Fiona being totally against it at first, nobody was getting any sleep with a newborn being in the house. It was all just too much, I think. It wasn’t long until I had my first psychotic break.”

Mickey could tell Ian was about to cry again. He quickly wrapped his arms around Ian, letting him sit there and take a break in his story. Mickey couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to relive all that shit.

“I didn’t mean to take her,” Ian whispered, so quietly that Mickey almost missed it.

“What?”

“Lip and Fiona cornered me one day and said they were taking me to a hospital, and I freaked out. I didn’t mean to…” Ian trailed off, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand.

“Ian?” Mickey questioned, feeling worried. He didn’t know if this was all too much for his boyfriend to take.

“I took off with Franny. I lied and said I’d go, snuck out the back with the baby, and I stole Lip’s car.”

Mickey blinked, “You stole your sister’s baby?”

“I didn’t fucking steal her,” Ian snapped, before going soft again, “or, at least, I didn’t see it that way at the time. In my mind I was just taking her on a trip. I wanted to take her to Disneyland. Happiest place on earth, right?” Ian gave a humorless chuckle, “I only got to Indiana before the police found me.”

“How’d they find you?”

“Fiona called the cops. I was only gone for a few hours, but they put out an amber alert and everything. They found me at a gas station when I stopped to get Franny some food, and I left her in the car. I wasn’t in there, but like maybe ten minutes. Someone must have identified Lip’s car and called the cops,” Ian wrapped his arms around himself, “It was scary. They cornered me and yelled at me, and then when I tried to run, they tasered me and slammed my head on the ground, and then they cuffed me. They wouldn’t let me see Franny. Not even when we got to the station. They wouldn’t even tell me where she was, or if she was ok. Then Fiona, Lip, and Debbie came to pick me up, and I’ve never seen them so scared. Debbie couldn’t stop crying. The worst part was I did that. I did that to all of them. I had to put them through that.”

“Shit, Ian.”

“I went to the psych ward after that. I delt with a bunch of medications until I found the right ones, and I went through therapy. I struggled with it for a while, and Caleb didn’t like it. Some of the meds had side effects that affected my mood, caused rashes” Ian blushed then, “or cause me to have erectile dysfunction.”

Mickey didn’t react to that, but said, “So, what? That’s no reason to cheat.”

“He did though. He’d cheat and say it was my fault. He’d try to get me to stop taking my medication, when he thought I was getting better. I spent most of last year off my meds, and it still wasn’t enough. My last straw was when I finally caught him in the act. He was fucking her in our bed, and then had the nerve to tell me I was overreacting when I packed a bag and left. Then a week later he broke up with me over text, and that pushed me over the edge.”

“Fuck him then. Seriously, Ian, you’re fucking better off.”

“The fact that he ultimately picked her over me drove me insane. I got it in my head that she was holding him hostage, so one night I climbed up to his apartment window and broke in with a rock. She freaked obviously, but Caleb called Fiona instead of the cops. Fiona, Jimmy, and Lip picked me up. They said they were taking me back to the hospital, so I-” Ian stopped, and then looked away from Mickey. It was like Ian couldn’t bear looking him in the eye, when he said, “I tried jumping out of the car. We were on the interstate, and I opened the door. I didn’t want to go back to the hospital. If Lip hadn’t been there to pull me back in, or if he’d been to slow then I’d be dead right now probably. I fucking scared the shit out of them. I went back, and then got out with new meds. A few months later I met you.”

Mickey felt his stomach turn. Ian tried to throw himself from a moving car, and that was earlier _this_ year.

Ian looked back up at Mickey, and must have seen the horror in his eyes, because then he said, “You’re afraid of me.”

Mickey shook his head, “No, it’s just a lot to take in.”

Ian nodded, and then said, “Do you want to break up?”

“Fuck no,” Mickey said quickly.

“Even after all that?”

“All what, Ian? You have a mental disorder. You’re sick, and sometimes it can cause you to do something dangerous, but you’re not evil. Look, you weren’t going to hurt Franny. Also, fuck your ex, he sucks. And Lip was there, and he pulled you back in. You’re safe now, and you’re fine. Shit, you’re the most competent person I know.”

“But what happens when I’m not, Mickey? What happens if I slip up again? What if I accidentally hurt you, or Mandy, or Yev? Would you be able to fucking live with yourself? I wouldn’t.”

“Look, you’ve dealt with this shit since you were eighteen. If something comes up, we’ll handle it. You’re not going to hurt Mandy or Yev, no fuckin’ way. I trust you.”

Ian’s eyes shined with tears, “You trust me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Thanks,” he sniffled, wiping at his eyes for what must have been the hundredth time, “I wish the people over at the EMT station knew that.”

“Hey, fuck them. They don’t know shit about you.”

“Y’know, I’m not the great guy you think I am Mickey.”

“Wanna fuckin’ bet? Not to stroke your ever-growing ego, Gallagher, but there are a lot of reasons why you’re great.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Name one.”

“Fuck you, I’ll name ten.”

“Whatever, Mickey.”

“What, you don’t think I can?”

Ian didn’t say anything.

Suddenly, Mickey had an idea. He smirked, “Yeah, bet you I can. If I do, I get a reward. I get a kiss.”

Ian glared at him, “Kinda not in the mood for this game, Mickey.”

“Oh, so what, you get to do your little fuckin’ bets whenever you want, but when I want to I can’t?”

“Yes,” he said sternly.

“Fuck you, Gallagher,” Mickey said, before holding up one finger, “First reason, you are literally the nicest guy I know. Second reason, you’re selfless,” he put up his second finger, and then he put up his third and fourth, “Three, you care about your family. Four, you care about _my_ family.”

“Mick,” Ian murmured, his cheeks turning pink.

Mickey continued, “You’re always problem solving, you’re a hard worker, and you never look down on people. You saw something in me that nobody else did, and it made me realize that maybe I was worth giving a shit about. Lastly, you never gave up on us, even when I was a complete asshole time and time again. You never stopped fight for us. You never gave up, and I’m not giving up on you, Ian.

There was a long moment of silence between them, and Mickey felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was on his knees, facing Ian, hoping he’d gotten through to him. After everything they’d been through, after they’d both fought so hard to get their relationship to where it needed to be, Mickey wouldn’t be able to stand it if this was the thing that broke them up. Ian feeling like he didn’t deserve Mickey when Mickey knew it was the other way around. Mickey didn’t think he could take it anymore, the silence. He dug his nails into his leg, feeling his palms become sweatier the longer he waited for Ian’s response.

“That was only nine,” Ian finally pointed out, right before Mickey kissed him. Ian moaned, opening his mouth, letting Mickey in. He reached up to cup Mickey’s jaw, as they moved their mouths together.

“Fuck,” Mickey huffed, when he pulled away.

“Yeah,” Ian murmured, rubbing his thumb over Mickey’s jaw, “Did you really mean all that?”

“Of course, Gallagher.”

“Promise?”

Mickey gave Ian a little smirk then. He knew for a fact that this wasn’t the end for them, not by a long shot. Through all the shit they’d been through this summer. The misunderstanding, the self-doubt, Mickey’s baggage, and now Ian’s, they’d always managed to come out on the other side They were going to be ok. Mickey had finally found the happiness he didn’t know he’d been looking for, and he wouldn’t give it up so easy. He couldn’t. “I promise,” he said, and then pulled Ian in for another kiss.


	17. Let Me Teach You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Ten more chapters left are you excited?! Promise the next chapter won't be such a long wait. Chapter warnings are: mentions on child abuse, childhood trauma, and mentions of drowning. As always I just want to say thank you for all the kind comments and kudos, and thanks for reading!

Ian pulled up to the small brick building, parking on the side of the road. He’d been here many times before with Mickey and Mandy, but it was his first time doing it alone and he was nervous. He looked over at Debbie, who was in the passenger seat, checking her make-up in the mirror. He then glanced up at his rearview mirror, to see Franny playing with Debbie’s phone in the backseat.

Franny met his eyes in the mirror, and said, “Where are we, Uncle Ian?”

“We’re at Yevgeny’s summer camp, Fran. We’re here to pick him up.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re all going to a barbeque at Mickey’s house, remember?”

Franny nodded, still looking confused, “Where Uncle Mickey?”

“He’s at the store with your Aunt Fi and Uncle Lip.”

“Oh.”

“I still can’t believe you convinced him to let Fiona pay for the food,” Debbie said, not looking away from the mirror.

“Yeah, well he’s being careful not to argue with me, because of what happened yesterday. I don’t think he wants to cause me any stress.”

“Yesterday wasn’t your fault, Ian, ok? Caleb ambushed you at the game. He fucking outed you about your disorder, the stupid prick.”

Franny gasped, “Mommy, bad word.”

“Sorry, Franny.”

“Pretty sure Frank was behind the whole thing,” Ian rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what he expected to happen. He probably just wanted to cause a fight between me and Mickey.”

“Typical.”

“I think Mickey’s fine with my disorder. I just don’t want him to look at me differently or treat me differently because he’s scared that I’ll fly off the handle. That was the problem in the first place. He treated me like any normal person, and I was afraid he’d stop if he knew. Y’know, kinda like you guys did.”

Debbie turned to him with a frown, “We don’t mean to, Ian. It’s just sometimes you remind us of-”

“Monica,” he finished, giving Debbie a knowing look, “Yeah, I know. You realize I’m not her, right?”

Debbie nodded wordlessly, and then decided to change the topic, “At least the hard part is over, right? Now, you have no secrets. Plus, no more Caleb, and Frank fucked off somewhere. We haven’t seen him since Friday.”

“Probably took another trip out of the country.”

“Think he’ll come to Fi’s wedding?”

“God, I hope not,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt, and opening the door, “I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” She said, going back to her make-up, probably trying to look good for Sandy. That was a relationship Ian didn’t see coming.

Ian entered through the front doors, where all the kids were waiting to be picked up. He went over to the sign out table, where a counselor was waiting, and he smiled at her, “Hi, I’m here for Yevgeny Milkovich. His dad should have called and said I was picking him up.”

“Right,” the woman said, looking through her clipboard, and picked up a sticky note attached to one of the papers, “Uh, Ian Gallagher?”

“Yep.”

“Can I see some ID?”

Ian pulled out his wallet and took out his ID, handing it to the woman. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name.

“Ian, Ian!” Yevgeny called out, pushing past the swarm kids to get to him.

“Hey, Yev,” Ian greeted, crouching down with open arms, which Yevgeny happily ran right into. Ian hugged him, before picking Yevgeny up, “How was camp?”

“It was good. Where’s my dad?”

“Your dad and mom are getting ready for the barbeque. I told them I’d come pick you up.”

“Here you go, sir,” the counselor smiled at him, handing back his ID.

“Thanks.”

“Ms. Tina, this is my daddy’s boyfriend. His name is Ian.”

The counselor, Tina, smiled wider, “Oh _this_ is Ian. Yevgeny talks about you all the time.”

Ian felt himself blush, “Good things I hope.”

Tina nodded, “Only good things. Mr. Milkovich is a very lucky man.”

Ian couldn’t help but smile, “I think I might be the lucky one.”

Yevgeny and Ian said their goodbyes, and then headed towards the door. Ian had his hand on the handle when another person called his name. Ian turned to see Kev jogging up to them with two little girls not far behind.

Yevgeny wiggled in Ian’s arms, trying to get down, so Ian let him go.

“Hey, Ian,” Kev said, when he finally got to them, “No Mickey today?”

“Nah, he’s at the store getting stuff for the barbeque. I told him and Svetlana I’d pick Yev up today.”

“Right,” Kev nodded, “V should already be over there. Hope your hungry, cus she made her famous potato salad.”

“Amy, Gemma,” Yevgeny said, pulling at the girls’ hands, “Come meet my daddy’s boyfriend. I _told_ you he was real.”

“Go on say hi, girls,” Kev encouraged them.

The two girls smiled up at Ian shyly, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Ian smiled back, and then looked to Kev, “They look just like V.”

“I know. Lucky them, right? We’re gonna go home and get ready for the barbeque, and then after, we’re going to go late night school shopping, right, girls?”

Ian watched Amy and Gemma nod their head, and Ian said, “Oh, right, school is starting soon. Mickey said the camp is ending Friday.”

Yevgeny nodded and he looked distraught, “That’s the last time I’m gonna see you guys. I’m gonna miss you,” he said to Amy and Gemma, who ran to hug Yevgeny.

“We’re gonna miss you too,” they said in unison.

Kev raised his eyebrow, “What are you three taking about? You’re all in the same class this year. Girls, you’re gonna see him again in like ten minutes.”

“But it’s not the same,” Yevgeny said, rubbing at his eyes, pulling back, “I just wish summer lasted forever.”

“Hey,” Ian said, crouching down to Yevgeny’s level, “I know your sad about camp ending, but I know something that might cheer you up. My family is having a pool party Saturday. I was going to talk to your parents about it today.”

Yevgeny dried his eyes, “That sounds fun.”

“It definitely is, plus you’ll get to do one more fun thing before school.”

Yevgeny grinned up at him, “Yeah, ok!”

Ian chuckled, standing back up. He looked back at Kev, “You and V can bring Amy and Gemma along if you want?”

“No can do, gotta work. We’re looking forward to Fiona’s wedding though. You know she asked V to be her maid of honor?”

“Yeah,” Ian said, rubbing the back of his head, “she doesn’t have a lot of friends, or good friends anyway. So, Veronica is probably like a breath of fresh air for her.”

“V’s so excited. Those two have become close. Despite her radio smashing tendencies, she’s actually really cool.”

Ian smiled at that, “I know. Well, better get back to Mickey’s. I’m sure he’s wondering where I am.”

Kev nodded, when a parent and their kid pushed past them.

Ian looked up to see it was that asshole from the bar, the one he got in a fight with, Dave. He was walking with his young son, which Yevgeny had an altercation with earlier, and it almost cost him to get thrown out of camp.

Dave must have recognized him, because when Ian told him to watch where he was going, the guy turned around to get in Ian’s face, but froze and his expression changed from anger to recognition. He glanced between Ian and Yevgeny, seeming to make a connection, and then he looked to his son, who wasn’t making eye contact with Yevgeny. He then just mumbled a “Sorry,” and left without another word.

Ian looked to Kev, who was shocked, but Ian just grinned. It was smart of that guy not to start anything, and he knew Kev knew that too.

After saying goodbye to Kev, both Ian and Yevgeny got into Ian’s car, and they drove off to the Milkovich house. When they got there, Ian could see Fiona talking to V, Lip, and Tami. Which meant Mickey was home. He got out of the car and passed Sandy was sitting on the ground with Mandy, playing on their phones. He also passed Carl, who had walked over from the youth shelter.

Yevgeny raced past Ian, and Ian followed him into the house, where Mickey was cutting up vegetables for the burgers. He watched as Yevgeny said hi to his dad, before running to go put his bag up in his room. Now that him and Mickey were alone, Ian took the opportunity to walk up behind him and wrap his arms around Mickey’s waist, kissing at his neck.

“Hi to you too,” Mickey chuckled, leaning into Ian’s touch.

“All this looks good.”

“Yeah, well your sister made me go to Whole Foods. So, I guess it’s supposed to be better quality, right?”

“Thanks for letting her pay.”

“I was scared she’d break my arm if I didn’t.”

“Seriously, Mick.”

Mickey stayed quiet for a moment, before saying, “She said it was the least she could do, since I invited you guys last minute. Said she wanted to show her appreciation for how I found you and calmed you down yesterday. I didn’t want to be rude and turn it down.”

Ian kissed Mickey on the cheek, “I’d say you deserve it for putting up with me.”

“I’m not putting up with anything. Would have done it anyway, Gallagher,” he said, turning to kiss Ian on the lips.

Ian sighed contently, kissing Mickey back.

“Eww,” came a voice from behind them.

Both Ian and Mickey laughed, as they turned to see Yevgeny with his arms crossed. He had a disgusted look on his face that reminded Ian too much of Mickey. “Yeah?”

“If you wanna kiss then go to your room.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “If you don’t wanna see it you can move out.”

Yevgeny huffed, and then stalked out of the house.

“I swear that kid get mouthier every day.”

“Well, he’s definitely your kid.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he might be a little difficult for the teachers to handle this year. He goes back Monday. Svetlana and I haven’t even gone school shopping yet.”

“Yeah, Yev was telling me he started school soon. Liam doesn’t go back to school for another two weeks,” he said, picking up a tomato slice from Mickey’s cutting board, earning a smack on the arm from Mickey. He laughed, stuffing it into his mouth, licking the tomato juices off his finger. A thought suddenly came to Ian’s mind, “That reminds me. Are you doing anything Saturday?”

“No, why?”

“Us Gallaghers are having our end of the summer pool party. It’s basically just us, but we’ll have fun games and pizza. Yev already said he wanted to go. I was going to ask Mandy to come along, and Debbie will probably ask Sandy.”

A small flash of nervousness crossed Mickey’s face, before he quickly covered it up, “Yeah, Yev would love that. Just make sure he gets back home before dark.”

Ian frowned, “You’re not coming?”

Mickey shook his head, “Nah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” he said, quickly putting the vegetables on a plate.

“Why don’t you want to come?”

Mickey shrugged, picking up the plate, “Just don’t want to,” he said, before carrying the food out the door.

Ian stood there a few moments, feeling confused. Why didn’t Mickey want to come? He’d gone to other Gallagher events that were a lot worse than a pool party. Ian thought about that for a while, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Mickey was definitely acting weird about this, and Ian kept playing his words over and over in his head, until it finally dawned on him why Mickey was acting the way he was.

Ian walked out of the house, to find Mickey smoking on the porch, haven already given the vegetables plate to Svetlana, who was cooking at the grill. He sat down next to Mickey, who handed him the cigarette. Ian grabbed it and took a drag, as he watched everyone on the lawn. He saw Liam, Yevgeny, Amy, and Gemma playing with chalk on the sidewalk, and next to them, Debbie and Sandy were blowing bubbles with Franny. He heard a shriek and looked over to see Lip spraying Tami and Mandy with the water hose before they managed to wrestle it out of Lip’s hands and spray him with it. He then looked over at the food table, where Fiona was in an animated discussion with Kev and V, and Iggy and Colin were showing off their guns to Carl. Svetlana was still manning the grill, yelling at Jaime and Joey in Russian, probably because they tried to correct her on how to cook the food. Ian smiled at the scene before him. If someone were to drive by, they wouldn’t see two groups of people from different backgrounds, North Side and South Side. Instead, they’d see a family barbeque, and nothing else.

He passed the cigarette back to Mickey, and then said, “Why didn’t you tell me you don’t know how to swim?”

Mickey’s head snapped toward him, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I know how to swim,” Mickey said defensively.

“Then why won’t you come to the pool party?”

“Like I said,” Mickey shrugged, “don’t want to.”

Ian gave Mickey a look that said, ‘are you kidding me?’ If Ian were honest with himself, he’d suspected Mickey didn’t know how to swim once or twice already. He always passed on every opportunity to go swimming when Ian asked, coming up with excuses like he didn’t like people, or he didn’t feel like it. Mickey always avoided the pool at Ian’s house, and had no swimming trunks. Ian had stayed over enough times to know the contents of Mickey’s closet and drawers, no sign of a swimsuit anywhere.

“What?” Mickey asked incredulously, when Ian kept staring at him.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Mickey. It’s fine if you don’t know how.”

Mickey tossed his cigarette on the ground, and stomped it out with his foot, “Fine whatever.”

“Fine whatever, what?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I don’t know how to swim. Happy now?”

Ian shrugged, “I just don’t see the big deal.”

“It’s fuckin’ embarrassing.”

“Ok, but you can still come this weekend. You don’t have to swim.”

“Yeah, but your brothers and sisters might wonder why. I don’t want them asking me. I don’t want them to know.”

“Why don’t you want them to know? Why is that such a problem?”

Mickey let out an irritated sigh, “Because it’s not just that I don’t know how to swim.”

Ian observed his boyfriend for a moment, trying to understand what that could have meant. Then it hit him, “Mickey,” he said gently, “are you afraid of the water?”

“Shh!” he hissed, “not so fuckin’ loud.”

“We’re the only ones on the porch.”

“Doesn’t matter. Also, I’m not _afraid_ of the water. I just feel better when I’m not in it.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Ok, why don’t you like being in water? Did you just never want to learn? I’ve been swimming with Mandy. Also, Yevgeny tells me all the time that he likes swimming at camp.”

“Svetlana taught Yev how to swim. Mandy and my brothers were taught by my mom. All my brothers are older than me, so of course they were taught first, by the time she got to me, I didn’t even want to go near a pool. So, she skipped me and went onto Mandy. I never tried to learn after that.”

“But why?”

Mickey grimaced, and Ian could tell the reason was much greater than just an irrational fear of swimming. Mickey quickly pulled out another cigarette and lit it, “Why do you think?” he scoffed, before putting the cigarette up to his lips.

“Your dad?”

“Bingo.”

Ian felt a twist in his stomach. He was going to ask, but Ian knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “What happened, Mickey?”

Mickey blew smoke out, looking straight ahead, “You remember the day we were getting Yev’s room put together, and we were lookin’ at those old photos?”

Ian nodded, because he did remember. He also remembered finding out some horrific stuff about Mickey’s parents’ relationship.

“There was a picture of me, my dad, and my brothers on a fishing trip.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. You looked really young in that.”

“I was six. It was a couple months before my birthday. I had been askin’ my pops all year if we could take a fishing trip as my present, since all my brothers have been on one but me. Pops always said he was busy, or he might be outta town. Then one day, at the beginning of June, he said we’d go that Saturday. I’d never been so excited in my life. We took that picture when we got to the lake, and then pops taught me how to fish, and then later he let me try my first beer.”

Ian scowled at the thought of Mickey drinking at a young age, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, focusing on Mickey’s story. “Sounds like it started off good.”

Mickey let out a humorless laugh, his hands slightly shaking as he took another drag of his cigarette, “It did, but it didn’t end that way though. Then again, nothin’ ever does for me. When it started getting dark, my brothers all decided to go for a swim. My pops asked me why I wasn’t swimming, and I told him I didn’t know how. He argued with me, saying I should stop being a pussy and just jump in. He was fuckin’ shitfaced, so he wasn’t making a lot of sense. Then he got up, and grabbed me by the shirt and said, _‘If you don’t have the balls to do it, then I’ll fucking make you.’_ Then he dragged me to the docks and threw me off the edge.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I sank like a rock. I couldn’t see, water filled my lungs, and I was drowning. Good thing Jaime was nearby. He grabbed me and dragged me back on land. I was unconscious then. I remember all the bruises I had on my back from my brothers apparently trying to make me cough up the water. Then I guess Colin made a half-assed attempt at CPR, and I ended up vomiting all that water back up. I started crying and shivering because of my wet clothes. My pops came by and clapped me over the head for making us have to leave early. He called mom, and she took a bus to come get us. Drove us back in dad’s truck. She wanted to take me to the hospital, but pops said that if she did that, then they’d find alcohol in my system and take me and my siblings away.

I ended up getting pneumonia after that and was bedridden for three weeks. Once it was all over, I looked like a goddamn corpse. By the time my birthday rolled around, my pops was back in jail for breaking parole, and mom was pulling doubles just to be able to feed us and keep a roof over our heads. No one was home, so I stole a pack of coolers from the gas station, and then passed out in my room. I guess my present that year was being alive. What a fuckin’ waste that was,” he muttered, throwing the cigarette on the ground, and stomping it out like it owed him money.

Ian could tell Mickey was pissed thinking about it. So, Ian put his arm around Mickey and kissed his cheek, “I’m happy you’re still alive.”

Mickey looked to him, and his expression softened, “Thanks, Ian.”

“So, that’s why you never learned how to swim?”

“Gallagher, I can’t even get myself into the water. Can’t do anything bigger than a hot tub.”

A short silence stretched between them, when suddenly an idea popped into Ian’s head, “Hey, Mick?”

“Hm?”

“Would you ever consider trying to get back into the water?”

Mickey didn’t even entertain the thought, “No fuckin’ way, Gallagher.”

“What? It’s just a question.”

“It’s never ‘just a question’ with you. Whatever you’re planning, I’m not going to do it.”

“Just hear me out. Why don’t we-”

“No.”

“Make a deal that-”

“ _No_.”

“Will you let me fucking finish?”

Mickey crossed his arms and glared at him.

“Look, I can teach you how to swim. How to not be so scared of the water. Just give me a few days, and y’know we can go slow. It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

Mickey let out an exasperated sigh, “Why do you even care, man?”

“Because it’s bullshit,” Ian said sincerely, as he gently cupped Mickey’s face, “What your father did to you was horrific, but you don’t have to let him control your life anymore. He’s stolen so many memories from you, Mick. I just want to help you reclaim them. You deserve it, you deserve to do the things you want to do. I know it bothers you that you don’t know how to swim. I can help you. Don’t let your father keep happiness away from you, he isn’t fucking worth it.”

Mickey was quiet for a moment, and it was apparent he was mulling over Ian’s words. He moved out of Ian’s grasp, and rubbed at his nose, “Fine. Fucking fine, but if I gotta do this then you gotta do something for me.”

“Ok.”

“No limit. It can be anything I want.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Sure, if you let me teach you how to swim, then I’ll do something for you. Anything.”

“Good.”

“What is it?”

“Before I even think about getting near any water, tomorrow, you and I are going down to that fuckin’ EMT station, and you’re gonna get some answers, Gallagher.”

Ian’s eyes widened at that, as he slightly shook his head, “No, Mick.”

“You said anything.”

“Not that. C’mon, Mickey, I’ll literally do anything else.”

“No negotiation. You either put your big boy pants on and go down there to find out why they rejected you, or I’ll never learn how to swim. Then one day I’ll probably slip and fall in lake Michigan, and I’ll drown because someone passed on the opportunity to show me how. Also, my boyfriend wouldn’t be a fuckin’ EMT, so he couldn’t save me, and-”

“Fine!”

“Aw what’s the matter, Gallagher? Can’t take someone feeding you your own medicine?”

“Shut up,” Ian grumbled, at the same time Iggy walked over to them, and sat down on one of the steps. Ian noticed he had on a homemade flower crown, so he pointed at it and said, “Love what you did with your hair.”

Iggy nodded, taking a sip of his beer, “Kev’s kids made it for me. Your niece said I was the flower king.”

Mickey snorted out a laugh, “The only thing you’re king of is getting on everybody’s nerves.”

“That’s a good one. You know that’s why I admire you, Mick. You’re so witty.”

Mickey narrowed his eyes at his brother, “What do you want?”

“Look, I’ll be real with you. I’m short on drug money, so the guy I’m working for needs collateral until I can get him what he’s owed, or I’m going to get my shit kicked in.”

“Ok?”

“So, I’m going to need to borrow your X-Box for a few days.”

“No.”

“But I’ll bring it back,” he whined.

“No fuckin’ way. I stole it fair and square. It’s mine.”

“But-”

“Listen, those assholes are going to be the least of you worries, Iggy, because if you take my X-Box to a fucking drug dealers house, I will kill you.”

“But, if I don’t bring them something valuable, then I’m already dead.”

“Good, one less mouth to feed.”

“Is that any way to talk to a king?” Iggy said, pointing to the crown on his head.

“I’m leaving this conversation,” Mickey muttered, getting up from his spot, and walking away.

Ian glanced over at a forlorn looking Iggy. He gave him an encouraging pat on the back, “Don’t worry, if I ever get my EMT job, I’ll be there to help with your wounds and broken bones when you get your ass kicked.”

Iggy gave a nod of appreciation when Svetlana finally announced the food was done.

Ian got up to join the rest of the family, putting an arm around Mickey’s waist when he got to him. Ian didn’t think he’d ever feel this kind of happiness, but looking around at all the happy faces of both his family’s and Mickey’s, Ian knew one thing. He wasn’t ever going to let this go.

The next day, Ian parked his car outside the EMT station, feeling his insides turn as he turned off the ignition. He glanced over at Mickey, who was staring out at the building.

Mickey must have seen Ian’s reflection in the window because he turned his head to look at Ian, a subtle worried expression worn on his face. “You ok, Gallagher?”

Was he ok? Ian honestly didn’t know. He didn’t even know what he was going to say to these people. ‘Hey, you denied me a position on your team, but I just don’t take no for an answer, so I’m going to need you to show me to my locker now.’ It was insane. It was insane, and he wished Mickey didn’t talk him into going. Ian didn’t even know why he agreed. Maybe he shouldn’t care if Mickey knew how to swim. Why was the ability to teach him how an equal trade for Ian to go back to the job that rejected him and make an ass out of himself again?

“Gallagher,” Mickey said again when Ian didn’t answer him the first time.

Ian shook his head, feeling a lump form in his throat. He couldn’t do it. Even if he brought up the fact he felt like he was being discriminated against, what would he do if they denied it? Sue them? What if they were right? What if he gets the job and messes up? Ian couldn’t stop all the negative thoughts and ‘what if’s’ from entering his mind. He let out a shaky breath, “I can’t do this, Mickey.”

“Yes, you can.”

Mickey made it sound like the simplest thing in the world. Ian felt a tightening in his chest. He couldn’t do it. Ian shook his head again, “I can’t. Let’s just go home.”

“But we agree-”

“I don’t fucking care what we agreed on, Mickey!” Ian snapped, feeling his breath quicken, “I’m fucking scared, ok?”

“So what?”

Ian blinked, “So what?”

“Yeah, so fucking what if you’re scared? People do things they’re scared of all the time. I’m about to jump in a pool because we made this stupid fucking bet. So, stop being a pussy and just do it.”

Ian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, of course you would think that way.”

“What you don’t think I get scared? Most of my life I’ve had to wake up and go to bed terrified. Whether it be living with my father, or being in prison, or even now with the fear of raising my son in the ghetto. So, you get rejected for a job once and you’re scared to try again? You know they did you dirty, Ian. Man up and go fucking tell them that. The worst they can do is reject you again.”

Ian looked down at his lap, his voice going soft, “You make it sound so easy.”

“Nothing’s ever easy, Gallagher. Fuck, staying alive every day is an accomplishment in and of itself.”

“What do I even say?”

“Just tell them what you told me. That you feel like they fucked you over because of your bipolar disorder.”

“What if they still don’t let me join?”

“Well, what you do next is up to you. Either fight back, or let it go. At least you’ll know that you tried.”

Ian nodded, still staring down at his lap.

Mickey sighed, and put a comforting hand on Ian’s back, “It’s going to be ok, Ian, no matter what. I got you.”

Ian knew Mickey was right. This was something he had to do. Without thinking about it any further, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door.

“Want me to go in with you?”

Ian looked back at Mickey, “No, I think I need to do this myself.”

Mickey nodded, as Ian got out and shut the car door behind him.

Ian made his way to the front entrance, trying to calm himself down as he walked through the double doors. He smiled politely at the receptionist sitting at the front desk.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked when Ian stopped in front of her.

Ian swallowed, clenching, and unclenching his fists at his side, “Yeah, uh, I recently put in an application for a job here as one of your EMT’s.”

The receptionist nodded, “Ok, and are you checking in on that application, sir?”

“Well, not exactly. If I’m being honest with you, I got rejected.”

The receptionist frowned a little, “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to know why. I got perfect scores on all my tests and was at the top of my class. I also have never had any run-ins with the police. So, I’m just confused.”

“Well,” the receptionist clicked her tongue, “I’d like to help, but I’m not involved in the hiring process here, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“Do you know who is?”

“Rita handles all that stuff.”

“Is she here today? It would be helpful if I could talk to her. Y’know, just to ask her why.”

“I can see if she’s available,” The receptionist picked up the phone on her desk, punching in a few numbers, before putting the phone up to her ear.

Ian glanced around the small room, looking at the posters on the wall. He then looked behind him towards his car. Mickey was out of it now, and he was leaning against it smoking a cigarette. Ian knew it was probably nerves. He could tell on the drive here that Mickey was just as nervous as he was.

“Sir?”

Ian swiveled his head back around, just as the receptionist put the phone back on the hook, “Yeah?”

“Rita’s a little busy, but she’s agreed to see y-”

Just then one of the doors swung open, and a short brunette woman appeared, holding a small stack of papers. She walked up to them, and Ian couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. She glanced at the receptionist, “This him?”

She nodded.

Ian stuck his hand out, “Hi, my name is Ian Galla-”

“Well, Ian, try to keep up. I’ve got a report due by four o’clock, so if you wanna talk you gotta walk.”

Ian blinked in surprise, before noticing Rita was almost to one of the doors, so Ian quickly scrambled to keep up with her. He followed her to a hallway, and then into a small office, where Rita tossed the papers onto a desk. He then watched her sit down in a chair, and Ian didn’t really know what to do. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

“Close the door, will ya, Red?”

Ian shut the door, and then stood in front of the desk.

“So, Lisa said you needed to talk to me about an application you put in.”

Ian nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“Well, spit it out, kid. I don’t have all day,” Rita said bluntly, but her tone was light and easy.

It made Ian feel better somehow. He could tell Rita was definitely a no-nonsense type of person, but she wasn’t mean about it. Ian respected that, and he wondered that if he got straight to the point, she’d respect him too. He cleared his throat, “You rejected me.”

“Ok?”

“You rejected me, and I don’t think you should have. I’m not expecting you to hand me a uniform right now, but I want to know why you didn’t pick me.”

“A lot of people put applications in who don’t make it. We found a better candidate, or we didn’t think you could work well with the team, or it has to do with the application itself. It could be a number of reasons,” Rita stopped and examined Ian for a moment, and then said, “But I think you have your own theory as to why you were rejected.”

“I do.”

“And?”

Ian felt nauseous again, like he did when he was in the car with Mickey. He felt afraid, like maybe he was overreacting, but then he remembered what Mickey said. _‘Nothing’s ever easy, Gallagher. Fuck, staying alive every day is an accomplishment in and of itself’_ , it echoed in his head, and then he took a deep breath, “When I was studying to be an EMT, I was at the top of my class. I passed all my tests with flying colors. My instructor even said I’d probably get hired at any station. I think you rejected me, because on my application I marked down that I had a mental illness. I have bipolar disorder, and I’m not ashamed of it. So, I put it down, thinking it would be better not to lie. I guess I would have been screwed either way, huh?”

Rita stared at him in surprise, keeping her mouth in a tight line. She kept her eyes on Ian a bit longer before asking, “What was your name again?”

“Ian Clayton Gallagher.”

She turned towards her computer and started typing.

Ian stood there in silence, while he waited for Rita to finish whatever she was doing.

A few moments later, Rita leaned back and started reading off the monitor, “Ok, let’s see. Ian Clayton Gallagher, born May 9th, 1996?”

“Yes.”

Rita read over Ian’s application, before nodding, “Ok, yes, I remember reviewing this.”

“So, it’s true? You know it’s illegal to discriminate against me for being handicapped.”

Rita looked up at him and narrowed her eyes, “You weren’t rejected for your disorder, Mr. Gallagher. I actually found your application very impressive, but when I did a background check on you, some things came up that concerned me, so I gave the position to somebody else.”

“Why? I haven’t been arrested. I don’t disrespect the law.”

Rita clicked a few more things on her computer, and then started reading, “August 15, 2014, you were entry level discharged from the United States Armed Forces. It says here the cause of your discharge was from suspicions you were suffering from severe mental illness after numerous infractions from your commanding officers, and they did not find you fit to continue your training. January 27, 2016, an amber alert was called out on you after you had reportedly stolen your sister, Deborah Gallagher’s, two-month-old daughter, which you were apprehended and the charges were dropped, but you were committed for psychiatric treatment. Finally, January 10, 2019, where you were committed again.”

Ian felt like the air had been punched out of him. He didn’t even think about the fact they’d do a background check on him.

“I don’t care that you have Bipolar Disorder, Mr. Gallagher, but I do find it concerning that earlier this year, you were committed to a mental institution, because you were a harm to yourself and others.”

“Please let me explain.”

Rita crossed her arms, “I’m listening.”

Ian took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. He only had one chance to explain himself, “Ok, yes, all of that is true, and I know it looks bad.”

“Ok?”

“But my past doesn’t define me. I worked my ass off to be an EMT, and I take this job seriously. This is where I belong, and you know it is. You said it yourself that you were impressed with me. Look, I know the stigma surrounding bipolar, you don’t have to read me my life off a fucking piece of paper and tell me what I did, I know I messed up. I know more than anyone. I have a disability, I am sick, but I am managing it. My mom had the same thing, and I had to grow up watching her suffer, because she kept lying to herself that she wasn’t sick, and it scared me. When I found out, I was defiant at first, and yes that caused me to spiral out, but I’d never hurt my niece. I love her, and my sister doesn’t have any problem leaving her with me. Yes, earlier this year, I went through a bad break up, where I had gotten out of an abusive relationship and hadn’t been on medication for six months. I got help, and I have been on top of my illness since. I’m in a good place right now, and when I’m not, I’ll go to the doctor, or get my meds changed, because I am sick, but I’m still a person, and I’m not dangerous. Just give me a chance, please.”

Rita let out a long sigh, “Ian, I understand, and I’m happy you’re in a healthier place now.”

“But?”

“But I feel like you haven’t had enough time to adjust, and this job is very high stress. I’m just looking out for the safety of you and our patients. Maybe wait a year or so, and try again, or apply somewhere else.”

“But I want to work here, and I want to work now. You think I don’t know this job is high stress? I know that! Half of the people we help are going to be mentally ill. Don’t you want someone on your team that understands them? That’s me, I can be that for you. Here on the South Side, where statistically more people will suffer from untreated mental illness, I want to help, because they’re people too. I want to be the person that holds their hand, when they feel like no one can help them. I want to be that small comfort in their lives in situations where they’re terrified and feel alone, because I know that feeling, I’ve been there too. So, let me. If I start acting crazy tell me to go home and I will. I can’t guarantee I’ll be ok one hundred percent of the time, and I will have slip ups, but don’t tell me I can’t do this job.”

Rita didn’t say a word, but she was staring at Ian intently.

“I can do this job. Just give me a chance to prove it to you,” he pleaded, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

Rita stayed silent, but Ian could tell she was thinking about it. Finally, she said, “The position you applied for is already filled, and we don’t have any new openings.”

Ian felt his heart sink to his stomach.

“But,” Rita said, “We have someone retiring in December. We’ll need someone to fill his position immediately, since it will be around Christmas, so if you can wait until then-”

“Yes,” Ian said quickly, “Yes, I can wait.”

“Then I’ll see you then.”

Ian stood there in shock, “What?” he asked dumbly.

“I said I’ll see you then,” she repeated, standing up, and then walking around the desk, “Congratulations, Gallagher, welcome to the team,” she said, holding out her hand for a handshake.

Ian let out a shaky laugh, before hugging her, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, patting his back, “I’m a pretty tough critic.”

Ian pulled back, still grinning, “I can take it. I’m pretty tough myself.”

“I don’t doubt that. We’ll send you more information and paperwork for insurance later on in the year.”

“Ok, yeah,” Ian was still grinning ear to ear, shaking with excitement.

Rita smirked at him, going back over to her chair, “Now, get the hell out of my office. I have work to do.”

“Right,” Ian said, nearly tripping over himself on his way out of the office.

“The door, Gallagher,” Rita called out.

“Yep,” Ian grabbed the handle to pull the door shut, but before he did, he said, “Again, thank you for the opportunity.”

Rita looked up from her computer, “Don’t need to thank me. I’m hiring you because of your qualifications, and the drive you have to help people. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I know… I won’t let you down, I promise,” and with that, Ian shut the door.

Ian stood outside Rita’s office door for a moment, just letting it all sink in. He couldn’t believe that just happened. He couldn’t believe Rita gave him the job. He was an EMT now, and he had Mickey to thank. _‘Mickey,_ ’ Ian thought suddenly, and an excited smile overcame him. He couldn’t wait to tell Mickey.

Ian started down the hall then, in a daze. He was so overwhelmed, on his way out, he nearly knocked someone over. “Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he said, steadying the woman in front of him, so she wouldn’t fall over.

The woman looked up at him and laughed, “When I read my horoscope this morning, it didn’t say I’d be running into any cute guys… literally.”

A blush formed on Ian’s cheeks, as he rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, I- uh-”

The woman snorted out another laugh, “I’m messing with you, Red,” she held up her right hand, “I’m happily married anyway, so don’t try anything,” she winked.

Ian let out a breath of relief, “Well, I’m gay, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Good to know. So, are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“I am. Well, actually, I’m currently not, but I will be. In December.”

“Rita already got someone to replace Rodriguez, huh? Damn, that woman works fast. It’ll be good to get some new blood around here. Rodriguez would always show us pictures of his grandkids, or his vacation photos every time him and his wife go on a cruise. He’d also play smooth jazz in the ambulance all the time, ugh,” she said, making a gagging motion, “You don’t have an unhealthy obsession with jazz, do you, Red?”

Ian shook his head.

“No secret grandkids I gotta worry about? No Jamaican Cruise slide shows?”

Ian laughed, “No grandkids, but I have been on a few cruises.”

“I bet you have,” the woman smirked, “You look the type. I also bet that bright red Grand Cherokee in the parking lot is yours too, huh?”

Ian grinned, “Guilty.”

“Thought so. We don’t get many nice cars like that around here. How about the guy standing next to it? Cute, yelling on his phone, dark hair, and knuckle tats? That yours too?”

Ian’s grin widened, “Yeah, that’s Mickey, my boyfriend.”

“Lucky bastard,” she laughed, and then said, “Well, it’s been fun, but I gotta go talk to the boss. I’ll see you around, uh…”

“Ian.”

“Nice to meet you, Ian,” she said, shaking his hand, “I’m Sue.”

“Nice to meet you too, Sue,” he said, before letting go of her hand. He watched Sue pass him, and head towards Rita’s office. He was still grinning and buzzing with excitement. He just met one of his coworkers, and not to pat himself on the back, but Ian thought he made a good first impression.

When Ian passed the front desk, the receptionist, Lisa, looked up at him. She must have noticed Ian’s mood, because she asked, “Good news?”

“Great news,” Ian said back, giving her two thumbs up, before heading out the front doors. He felt like he was walking on air, as he made his way over to Mickey, who was in fact, yelling on his phone.

“I don’t give a shit what Iggy said,” Mickey snapped, “if my X-Box is not exactly where I left it when I get back home, I am beating the shit outta him. I mean it, Mandy.”

Ian sped up, suddenly overwhelmed with the love he had for Mickey. In the back of his mind, he heard Mickey say his name, but Ian wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t break his stride, as he nearly tackled Mickey in a hug, picking him up and spinning him around, laughing all the while.

“What the fuck, Gallagher?! Put me down!” Mickey yelped in embarrassment.

Ian set him down sheepishly, both of them breathing heavily.

“Christ,” Mickey said, eyeing Ian up and down, “judging by how your actin’, I’m assuming they told you to kick rocks.”

Ian felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside him and spilling out of his mouth, “They offered me a job, Mick. I start in December.”

“Yeah, they better have,” he huffed, “If they know what’s fuckin’ good for them.”

“I didn’t believe they’d let me in, but you did. You got me this job, Mickey.”

“Nah, man. It was all you.”

“Thank you, Mickey,” Ian murmured, before surging forward to kiss his boyfriend. It was so fast and sudden, Ian knocked them back against his car door. He snaked his hands up Mickey’s shirt, before sliding them back down to Mickey’s waist, pulling him close.

Mickey squirmed, “Not here, Ian,” he gasped, as Ian moved down to Mickey’s neck, “C’mon, wait till we fuckin’ get home.”

“Don’t wanna wait, Mickey,” he chuckled darkly, before nipping at Mickey’s jaw.

“Goddamnit,” Mickey gritted out, “fuckin’ stop- Ah!”

_“Mickey, what’s going on? Are you still there?”_ Mandy’s voice called out from Mickey’s phone.

Mickey put the phone up to his ear, “I’m here,” he grumbled, pushing Ian’s hand away from rubbing him through his jeans, “Ian’s trying to impregnate me in the parking lot.”

_“Wow, a boyfriend that likes you. That sounds fucking terrible,”_ her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Fuck you, bitch. Tell Iggy what I said. It better be back by the time I get home,” and with that he hung up the phone.

“Now that’s no way to talk to your sister,” Ian whispered in his ear.

“Get off me,” Mickey laughed, pushing Ian back lightly.

Ian stepped back and grinned at him, he then felt a sudden rush of emotion as he stared into his boyfriend’s eyes. It was an amazing feeling, and it was new too, but Ian knew what it was. It was love, and he never felt more in love than he did with Mickey.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Nothing, Mickey, it’s just that I really can’t thank you enough. Thank you for believing in me and pushing me to be better. Thank you for caring.”

Mickey rubbed his nose with his thumb, and looked away blushing, “Whatever, Gallagher. If you really wanna thank me, let’s get goin’, so we can fuck without any witnesses.”

Ian pouted, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Mickey chuckled, “Let’s go,” he said, opening the passenger side door.

Ian got in the car as well, but when he went to start the ignition he stopped. It suddenly hit him that this was real. In a few months he’d be an EMT, helping people on the South Side. It was insane to imagine. Ian had remembered what it was like thinking he’d never get a job helping people after his diagnosis. Ian had almost given up. He didn’t even remember what possessed him to apply for classes, but he remembered the feeling of doubt, and that feeling stayed with him, even when he finished his training. When he got the news he’d been rejected, Ian was devastated, but he wasn’t all that surprised, he had expected it in a way. Now, that was all in the past because he made it, he got the job. Maybe he’d never be a soldier like he wanted, but he could still make a difference. Helping people, that’s what Ian wanted to do.

“You good, Ian?”

Ian looked to Mickey and smiled, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing,” he said, but then he grinned as he remembered something, “just about how fun it’s going to be teaching you how to swim.”

Mickey’s eyes widened with realization, “Aw shit.”

“You didn’t forget already, did you? You said if I did this, you’d let me teach you how to swim.”

“I remember, asshole.”

“Don’t worry, Mick. It’ll be fine.”

“Fuck you.”

Ian smirked, turning on the ignition, “Oh, don’t worry. Once we get back to your place, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Mickey smiled and put his sunglasses on, “Then step on it, bitch.”

Ian did just that, peeling out of the parking lot without a care in the world.

When they got back to Mickey’s house, Ian made good on his promise and fucked Mickey into the mattress, and then went a couple more rounds, before eventually having to leave.

When Ian got home that evening, he called everyone to the living room to tell them the good news. He hadn’t mentioned the rejection to them because he knew how they’d react, but luckily it didn’t matter anymore. Everyone was happy for him, of course, and were coming up to hug and kiss him. Fiona even insisted they throw together a small celebration for him, but Ian declined. After the long day he’d had, all Ian wanted to do was sleep.

The next day, Ian drove Mickey to his house to start their swimming lessons.

Mickey had insisted that if he were going to learn, it had to only be him and Ian, nobody else. This meant that most local pools like the YMCA, or Frank’s country club, which Ian knew Mickey would object to even if it were abandoned, were out of the question. So, Ian decided to teach Mickey how to swim in his family’s pool. He made sure to pick a time that he knew all his siblings would be gone, and then he picked Mickey up at his house, and they were on their way.

Ian was excited to help Mickey learn how to swim, but it was hard to stay that way when every time Ian looked over at Mickey, he looked sick to his stomach.

Mickey didn’t say a word the entire drive, keeping his eyes focused on looking out the window. When they arrived at Ian’s house, Mickey didn’t get out of the car at first, frozen in his spot.

Ian glanced over at him with a sympathetic smile, before slipping his hand into Mickey’s, causing the other boy to startle and turn.

“The fuck are you starin’ at, Gallagher?” he asked, his voice sounding shaky and unsure.

“It’ll be ok, Mick,” Ian said.

“Whatever,” Mickey replied, and got out of the car.

Once inside, Ian grabbed a couple of towels and swimsuits, handing one to Mickey, who was standing next to him with his arms crossed. Ian gave him a reassuring smile, causing Mickey to huff and stomp off to the bathroom to go change. Ian was a little worried that Mickey didn’t just change right in front of him, but he knew it was just because the whole situation made Mickey embarrassed.

When they got to the pool, Ian threw the towels down on the grass, while Mickey just stood there next to him silently, staring at the water, which sparkled in the summer sun.

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” he muttered.

Ian grinned at him, “Hey, you’re the one who agreed to the bet.”

Mickey ignored him, as he stood at the edge with his arms crossed, looking down at the water very unimpressed. He looked to Ian, and his scowl deepened, “You sure no one’s here?”

“Yup,” Ian said, taking his shirt off, “Lip is with Tami, Fiona is hanging out with V, Carl is at Kelly’s, Sheila and Debbie took Franny and Liam to the mall, and I don’t know where the fuck Frank is.”

Mickey scoffed, “Probably trying to avoid the aftermath of that shit he pulled with your ex. Inviting him to the game just to stir up shit between us.”

“Probably,” Ian shrugged, stepping into the pool, “makes sense he’d try to get back at us somehow since you embarrassed him both at his welcome home dinner and at breakfast. Just like him though to not confront you face to face, he’s too much of a pussy. He’s scared of you.”

Mickey’s eyes were like saucers, watching Ian ease into the pool, and then float on his back. He looked away then, coughing into his hand, “He should be fuckin’ scared. Not that hiding would do anything anyway. If I really wanted to find that fucker, I would. Ain’t no place that’s safe from me.”

“Unless if it’s at the deep end of a swimming pool.”

Mickey’s head snapped back to Ian, who had that cocky grin of his plastered to his face. He glared menacingly, but still made no attempts to get in the water, proving Ian’s point.

“C’mon, Mick, the water’s fine. See, look,” Ian stood up, “it’s shallow.”

“Easy for you to say. You got to learn how to swim from teachers and shit, and I almost fuckin’ drowned, because my psycho dad downed a whole bottle of Fireball and thought it would be funny.”

Ian ignored him, and said, “The first step is always the hardest.”

“Oh my god, you are such a fucking asshole,” Mickey said, shutting his eyes and clenching his fists, “The fuck do you know about teaching people to swim anyway?”

“In high school, I used to volunteer as a lifeguard at Frank’s country club and sometimes I’d help with swim lessons.”

Mickey opened his eyes, just to roll them, “Of course you did, Mr. fuckin’ golden boy.”

“Hey, I’m not perfect. There are a lot of things I don’t know how to do. For example, I know almost nothing about cars. I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

“Hey, Mick. It’s ok to be afraid.”

Mickey blinked at him in surprise, before changing back to anger, “I’m not-” he stopped, letting the words die on his lips. He gave an exasperated sigh, before rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Here,” Ian said, coming closer to the steps, holding his hands out for Mickey to grab, “just grab onto me, and I’ll ease you in.”

Mickey looked apprehensive, “You ain’t gonna just pull me in, are you?”

“No, Mickey, or course not. We’ll go slow.”

Mickey bit his lip, before tentatively walking to the steps of the pool. He let Ian grab onto his hands and flinched a little from the cold water touching his skin. His breath hitched when Ian started to pull him gently toward the top step.

“It’s ok, Mickey. Take your time.”

“Then stop fuckin’ pulling on me, Gallagher.”

“Ok.”

Mickey carefully stepped onto the top step; his feet fully submerged in the water.

“That’s it, Mick.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he gritted out, squeezing Ian’s hands tighter, as he took a breath and another step, the water rising halfway up his lower leg.

After a few moments, Ian started to tug on Mickey’s arms again, and to his surprise, Mickey let Ian guide him onto the next step. The water was now up to his knees.

“Fuck,” Mickey hissed.

“What’s wrong?”

“… It’s cold.”

Ian looked up at Mickey then, who had his eyes shut. He gave him a sad smile, before bringing him down off the last step, the water now at both of their hips. Ian then let go of Mickey’s hands, and slipped them around his waist, hugging him.

Mickey’s eyes fluttered open, “The fuck?”

“You did it, Mickey,” Ian murmured in his ear, “You’re in the pool. I’m so proud of you.”

Mickey looked down, seeming to realize he was in the pool, and his hands immediately flew up to grab onto Ian’s shoulders.

Ian let Mickey cling to him, keeping his arms wrapped around Mickey’s slightly shaking frame, which Ian knew wasn’t from the coldness of the water. He kissed the side of his head, “It’s ok, Mickey. Look, we’re standing up. You have full control; the water is only up to our waists.”

Mickey nodded, though not letting his hold on Ian go.

“You ok?”

Mickey let out a shaky breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you mind if I let you go?”

“… Ok.”

“Ok,” Ian said, letting his arms fall at the same time as Mickey’s. He backed away, before letting himself fall back into the water, and floating next to Mickey. Ian grinned at him, which caused Mickey to cross his arms and glare.

“What?”

“You made it into the water, Mick.”

Mickey’s face softened, as he looked around himself, “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“That’s pretty brave.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “So, what do I do now? Just splash around and shit?”

“Well, now just walk around in the water. Try to get a feel for it. Here, I’ll swim over to where the pool floor starts to drop. If you get close to me, then you’re going too far, ok?”

Mickey shrugged, “Ok.”

“Just walk around in a circle.”

Mickey followed Ian’s instructions, walking around the shallow end, or more like shuffling around with a scrunched up look on his face, which Ian would have found adorable if he didn’t know that Mickey only made that face when he was uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, Ian decided to check in, “How ya feeling, Mick?”

“This is gay,” Mickey muttered, still shuffling in a circle, his arms now crossed again, though it wasn’t clear if it was because Mickey was annoyed, or he actually was a little cold.

“We’re gay,” Ian playfully reminded him.

“And look where it’s gotten me.”

Ian rolled his eyes affectionately, “Ok, Michael Phelps, you can stop.”

Mickey stopped, but raised an eyebrow to him, “Oh, are you dishin’ out nicknames now?”

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence on me,” Ian smirked, making his way back to Mickey, “Do you feel comfortable walking in the water?”

“I guess.”

“Ok then, now I want to teach you how to float on your back.”

“No fuckin’ way.”

“C’mon, Mickey.”

“No way, Gallagher. Why can’t I just go straight to swimming?”

“Because there’s levels to this. It’s like learning how to crawl, before walking. Get it?”

“Whatever,” he huffed.

“It’ll be fine. Our bodies are naturally designed to stay afloat.”

“If that’s true, then why do people drown?”

“The oxygen in our bodies allow us to float, when our lungs are filled with water, we’ll start to sink. If you’re submerged in water and don’t know how to swim back up, you’ll eventually run out of oxygen and drown. Even when we’re dead, our bodies produce gasses that make us rise back to the top of the water.”

“Which is why you gotta tie weights to dead bodies, or else they’ll pop back up when they start decomposing,” Mickey finished.

“Uh, sure,” Ian said, trying not to sound to creeped out. He put one hand on Mickey’s back, and the other on his chest, “Now, lean back for me.”

“Gallagher-”

“It’ll be fine, Mickey. I’ve got you. I promise you’ll be ok. Just lean back. There, that’s it,” he said, as Mickey leaned back into the water, “Now, straighten out your legs. Ok, great.”

“Don’t let go of me, Ian.”

“I won’t. Just lay there and relax, like you would if you were face up on a bed.”

“Ok,” Mickey breathed, before closing his eyes, and then silence. They both stayed like that for a while. Mickey lying on his back, and Ian barely holding him up, both hands on his back. The only sound that could be heard, was the gentle ripple of the water.

“How do you feel?” Ian finally asked.

“Surprisingly good,” Mickey murmured.

“Ok. Now, I’m going to remove my hands. Don’t freak out,” Ian said suddenly, when he felt Mickey tense up, “I’m just going to lower them. You’ll be floating without me holding onto you, but I’m right here with you.”

“Fine.”

Ian nodded, and then removed his hands.

“Ian-”

“You’re doing great, Mick. See how your body just lets you glide on the water? You’re like your own personal raft.”

“Mmhmm.”

A few moments passed, before Ian backed away from Mickey, watching him from afar, but close enough to grab him if anything went wrong. He smiled, as he watched his boyfriend float on the water, “You’re doing it, Mickey. You’re staying afloat all by yourself.”

“Hardly,” Mickey scoffed, “You still got your hands under me.”

“No, I don’t. I backed away awhile ago. You’ve been floating by yourself for about two minutes.”

“What?!” Mickey’s eyes snapped open, as he flailed, trying to catch himself on nothing. He then fell underwater.

“Shit,” Ian hissed, grabbing for Mickey, and pulling him to his feet.

Mickey gasped for breath when he emerged from the water. He coughed and sputtered, holding onto Ian’s shoulders, finally finding his footing to be able to stand.

“Mickey, are you ok?”

“No, I’m not fucking ok!” he spit, pushing Ian back hard, “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“You left me!”

Ian rolled his eyes, “I didn’t leave you, I just backed up a little.”

“Same fuckin’ difference! You said you would be right there with me and you weren’t!”

Ian frowned, “I’m sorry, Mickey. You were just doing so well, and I didn’t want to get in your head by saying I was going to let you do it without me there.”

“Well, you did get in my head! I almost fucking drowned!”

“You would not have drowned. I was right here, and the water is only like three feet deep. Mickey, you were doing fine on your own. It’s like when you learn how to ride a bike, and the person teaching you promises not to let go, but then they do, but you’re doing too well to notice, and then you realize that you don’t need help anymore.”

“Well, I never learned how to ride a bike either!”

“Well, how is that my fault?!”

They were both panting now, water dripping down their faces as they stared in silence.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Ian finally said, stepping closer to Mickey and pulling him in for a hug, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Mickey said nothing, but let his head drop on Ian’s shoulder.

Ian kissed the side of his head, “We can stop now if you want.”

Mickey nodded, stepping out of Ian’s grasp. He then walked to the edge of the pool and climbed up the stairs.

Ian followed, grabbing one of the towels he set aside and started drying off. They both stayed silent as they made their way back to the house, before showering off, and getting their clothes back on.

When Ian and Mickey got into the car, they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Ian was afraid he’d really upset mickey, when he felt Mickey pull his chin toward him for a kiss. Ian let his eyes slip shut, as he let himself feel mickey on his lips. When Mickey pulled back, Ian dumbly asked, “What was that for?”

“So, you’d get outta your own head. Don’t worry, Gallagher, I know you didn’t mean to let me sink.”

Ian nodded, but still felt a lump of guilt forming in his chest. He didn’t let it show, however, and said, “Well, you were doing fine until you freaked out.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Just start the damn car.”

And just like that, the tension was gone. Ian could feel it melt away, as he turned the car on.

“Huh,” Mickey said.

“What?”

“Your check oil light is on.”

“Ok?”

“You ain’t gonna change it?”

“Don’t know how. I usually pay someone to do it.”

Mickey’s eyebrows raised, “You don’t know how?”

Ian chuckled a bit, “Yeah, I told you I didn’t know anything about cars.”

“Yeah, but that’s basic shit. Tell me you at least know how to change a tire?”

Ian shook his head, and Mickey groaned.

“That’s it. You’re not paying anyone to do that shit. Drive me past Auto Zone, and we’ll grab some oil, and I’ll change it at my house. You’re gonna learn a new skill today, Gallagher.”

Ian grinned, “Free car maintenance, and I get to watch you get all sweaty and dirty.”

“Just drive,” Mickey laughed, and Ian did.

After making a stop for oil, Ian stopped in front of the Milkovich house, where Mickey immediately hopped out of the car.

“Just gotta go grab my funnel and a bucket. I’ll be right back.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and went into the house.

Ian stepped outside of the car, leaning against it. He took the small time he had by himself to enjoy the summer breeze. It was crazy to think it was already August, and summer would be over soon. Fiona’s wedding was coming up fast, the kids were going back to school, and in a few months, Ian would have a job of his own. All Ian could think was that it was sad to see the pools close and the leaves fall, marking the end of what was possibly the best summer of his life. At least Ian could find solace in the fact that with the changing seasons, Mickey would be right there with him. And, of course, there was always next summer.

Mickey stepped out of the house, and made his way back to Ian, who stepped aside to let Mickey work.

Thirty minutes went by, with Mickey stopping to explain how to do what, and then stopping again to yell at Ian, who was more focused on Mickey’s ass and his oil covered hands. When Mickey finished up, he scolded Ian, saying that it was a waste to teach him, if Ian didn’t learn a goddamn thing. Ian just smiled and pulled Mickey in for a kiss, which the other boy readily accepted.

Ian then watched Mickey, go back towards the shed to put all the equipment up. Watching Mickey really did put Ian in the mood, and he decided that he just couldn’t wait for Mickey to get back, So, Ian followed Mickey’s path, adjusting the erection in his jeans, just thinking about what he was going to do to Mickey when he got him alone.

When Ian opened the door to the shed, he found Mickey putting away the oil on one of the shelves. With a smirk, Ian shut the door a little louder than he needed to, causing Mickey to startle and turn around.

He relaxed when he saw it was just Ian, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yup, it’s me.”

Mickey turned back around, “Just give me a second here, and we can grab dinner before you leave. Svetlana made meatloaf.”

“Mhm,” Ian hummed, letting his finger glide over some rakes leaning up against the wall.

Mickey turned to Ian again, his eyebrow raised, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah,” Ian shrugged, slowly making his way towards Mickey, “I’m just wondering how much I owe you for fixing my car?”

“How much what? What?”

“How much I owe you.”

Mickey’s face scrunched up in confusion, “You don’t owe me anything? All I did was an oil change. What are you talking about?”

Ian gave an exasperated sigh, “Don’t be modest, Mr. Milkovich. You _are_ the best mechanic in Chicago. My car was in such bad shape when I brought it in, but now it’s good as new. I have to pay you something.”

Mickey’s eyebrows went to his hairline, “Seriously?”

Ian stopped in front of him, nodding enthusiastically. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling.

Mickey rolled his eyes, now understanding what Ian was trying to get him to do, “Ok, well it wasn’t an easy job, so it’ll cost you a few grand. That alright?”

“It is, except-”

“Except?”

“Well, I left my wallet at home. Is there any way you can bill me?”

“I don’t bill people. You pay upfront, or sorry about your fuckin’ luck.”

“But you’re closing soon, and I’m far away from home.”

“Not my problem. No money, no car.”

“But it’s getting dark soon, and I don’t have any money. I’ll be all alone in this big city with no one to protect me.”

Mickey snorted out a laugh.

“Mick,” Ian hissed, playfully smacking Mickey’s chest.

“How do you want me to respond to that, Gallagher?”

“With literally anything but laughter.”

“Where the fuck is this going, anyway? Are we fuckin’ or are we rehearsing for a Broadway play?”

Ian rolled his eyes, and then ran a finger down Mickey’s chest, “I really need my car tonight. Maybe you could make an exception?”

“No exceptions,” Mickey grumbled, getting back into character.

“Please? I’m desperate,” Ian said, giving Mickey his signature pout.

Mickey stepped closer, his breath fanning Ian’s face, “How desperate?”

“Very desperate. I’ll do _anything_.”

Mickey gave Ian a smirk, and then said, “Get on your knees then.”

Ian immediately got to his knees, pulling Mickey’s shorts down with his underwear. He stayed there for a moment, letting Mickey’s dick rest on the side of his cheek, breathing hot puffs of air on it, before licking up the underside of his cock.

“Christ, Gallagher,” Mickey grunted, pushing his hips forward, “stop teasing.”

Ian let his tongue run over Mickey’s slit, before taking him into his mouth. Ian groaned at the sensation of his mouth feeling so full of Mickey. He bobbed his head, slowly making his way further down, until his nose finally hit Mickey’s pubic bone. He relaxed his throat, and then started bobbing his head again. Ian keened when he felt Mickey’s hands in his hair.

Mickey gripped Ian’s hair hard, before letting go and gently running his hands over Ian’s scalp. Mickey looked down at the same time Ian glanced up, their eyes meeting.

There was so much desire in the man above him, Ian thought he’d cum without even being touched. Suddenly, he felt Mickey pull him off his cock. Ian sat back on his knees and wiped at the corners of his mouth. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Mickey breathed heavily, “just get up here.”

Ian let himself be pulled up by Mickey, and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend immediately, letting his tongue search every inch of Mickey’s mouth. He grabbed Mickey’s ass, letting his hands mold the pliable flesh, gasping into Mickey’s mouth when he felt his own ass being grabbed, pulling him closer to Mickey.

“You are definitely wearing too many clothes,” Mickey laughed in his ear, as he rutted up against him.

“Do you wanna feel me, Mick?”

“Yeah,” he moaned.

“First, tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Ian,” Mickey whined, as Ian started to rub at his hole.

“Tell me what you need.”

Mickey wriggled in Ian’s grasp. He was pushed up against his work bench, his cock trapped between him and Ian’s jean clad erection, “Need you to fuck me.”

Ian grinned, before spinning Mickey around, and pushing him down against the bench. He slipped his shirt off, and then pulled out a condom and some lube.

At the sound of the cap popping, Mickey turned his head around to look at Ian, “Did you plan this?” he asked incredulously.

“Always gotta be prepared,” he said, and then took two of his lubed-up fingers and pushed them into Mickey.

“Fuck,” he hissed, dropping his head on his arm.

Ian chuckled, as he moved his fingers in and out, searching for Mickey’s prostate.

Mickey was panting heavily, pushing back onto Ian’s fingers, until he gasped, and his body jerked suddenly.

“There then?”

Mickey moaned in response, trying to get Ian to brush up against his prostate again.

“It’s ok, Mick. I got you,” he said, adding a third finger.

“Ian, please,” Mickey groaned, “I’m ready.”

Ian pulled out at Mickey’s request. He then pushed his pants and underwear down, kicking them off to the side. “Spread your legs for me,” he said, rolling the condom on.

“Like this?” Mickey asked, spreading wider and pushing his ass out.

“Just like that, baby,” Ian cooed, slicking up his cock with lube.

“Then get to it, stud.”

Ian pushed in with a low groan. He kept still a moment, and then leaned in to kiss up Mickey’s back, letting his hands run across his chest, tweaking Mickey’s nipples.

“ _Ian._ ”

Ian straightened back up, grabbing Mickey’s hips, and started thrusting into him.

“ _Yes, yes, yes_.”

Ian let his eyes slip shut and got lost in the moment. He focused on the feel of Mickey’s ass wrapped snug around him, slipping up and down his cock. Ian felt like he was in heaven, but it always felt that way with Mickey. Ian didn’t think he could have sex with anyone else if he and Mickey were to ever break up. All other sexual partners had been ruined for him because Ian knew none of them could ever compare to his sexy South Side boyfriend.

Ian could feel himself getting close. He leaned in to wrap his hand around Mickey, jerking his cock until he heard a shout from below him, and felt Mickey’s ass constrict like a vice. Ian kept fucking him through his orgasm, holding him up when Mickey basically went boneless. It didn’t take long for Ian to cum after that.

After the initial post sex haze wore off, Ian pulled out with a grunt. He then pulled the condom off, tying it off and throwing it at the corner of the shed. He put his clothes back on, and then turned to Mickey, who was pulling up his own shorts. Ian grabbed his hips, turning Mickey to face him.

Mickey had that fucked out look on his face, all giddy and light. He leaned in to kiss Ian, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s waist.

Ian accepted, and they made out lazily like they were still in their own little world. When Ian broke the kiss, he asked, “Was that enough for you to let me take my car back?”

“Nah,” Mickey grinned, “think I’ll just keep it here. I’ll keep you here too. Maybe one day I’ll let you leave, but it definitely won’t be any time soon.”

“You’re amazing, Mickey,” Ian said, nuzzling the side of Mickey’s face with his nose.

“Right back atcha, Gallagher.”

Ian slapped his ass playfully, “Let’s get some meatloaf. I’m fucking starving.”

“I’m sure you are, tough guy,” Mickey winked, causing Ian to roll his eyes.

When they made it up to the front porch, Iggy was on the steps smoking.

“Anymore meatloaf left?” Mickey asked, as he climbed the steps.

“Was when I was in there,” he said, eyeing both boys up and down, “Where have you two been?”

Mickey said, “None of your business,” at the same time Ian said, “The shed.”

“You’ve been in the shed this entire time? Doing what?”

“Plotting your untimely murder,” Mickey grumbled, as he and Ian made it to the door.

“Good one,” Iggy said, flicking the butt of his cigarette, “Oh, and you might want to change your pants, North Side. Y’know, so Yev won’t ask questions.

“What?” Ian furrowed his brow.

“Oh, goddamnit,” Mickey said, staring at the back of Ian’s pants.

“What?” he asked again, trying to maneuver his head to see what was on his pants.

Mickey took out his phone and snapped a picture, before handing it to Ian.

Ian busted out laughing when he saw exactly what Iggy and Mickey were talking about. There were two faded handprints on Ian’s ass. Probably from the oil still on Mickey’s hands. He handed the phone back to Mickey with an apologetic smile, “Guess this shows how much you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Get in the house, Gallagher,” Mickey laughed, before pushing Ian inside, and shutting the door behind them.


End file.
